


Sorcery and Sigils

by Preelikeswriting



Series: Through the Gate [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Attempted Murder, Bad Coping Methods, Gen, Good ol’ classism, I'll add more tags as i go, Morally Questionable Decisions, Werewolves Have Golden Eyes, background F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-28 14:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 99,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preelikeswriting/pseuds/Preelikeswriting
Summary: The Wizarding War has begun, and all Ed wants is to go home. However, with Hogwarts, Death Eaters, and questionable morals from almost everyone involved, things are... a bit more complicated than expected.(If you haven't read Magic and Mind this will make zero sense)(Pre-Promise Day, HP book 6)





	1. The Precipice

It had seemed like a simple enough plan that morning. Meet up with Olivia, Floo to Diagon Alley, and pick up his Hogwarts supplies. He supposed that’s what he got thinking anything in his life was going to be simple.

  
The air of fear caused by the Death Eaters had hit the alley hard. Windows were boarded or broken in and people hurried from place to place with their heads down, almost as if they were afraid of being recognized. Ollivander's had been gutted, shelves topped with wands rolling loosely across the floor. Ed didn’t want to dwell on the fate of the shop owner for long, the thought of the old man chained and bloodied like he’d been, made the persistent knot in his stomach grow tighter still.

  
They’d managed to find everything he needed in various shops around, but a good deal of it was busted and worn out, it seemed those who restocked the shops had been scared off or worse. Ed personally had no problem with the second hand. Back in Amestris, Al and he had got most of their meager possessions second hand. It wasn’t worth the extra money to buy new if the saved money could be used for food or to keep a roof over their head while they traveled. But, if there was one thing they would never go cheap on, it was Alchemy supplies, and Ed wished to apply the same standard to magic. While he was sure he would repair the cauldron he’d found, he had no idea the magic that could have been laid on the equipment originally, and while Alchemy could patch thinning areas in the metal it was useless for repairing enchantments.   
  
In the end, the two of them had split off from each other, Olivia to pick up some things she and Ashley needed in the pub, and Ed, to slip into the seedier shops in the area that wouldn’t have been cowed by the threat of Death Eaters. That’s what brought him to the present, standing awkwardly in the alley outside Borgin and Burkes, as a witch missing no less than twelve teeth sized him up as if wondering which of his parts would fetch the best price. He’d been aiming for Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary originally, only to catch a glimpse of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. And, while he did hold a certain amount of curiosity at their actions, the papers had loudly been reporting Lucius’s incarceration only day’s before and it hardly seemed like a time to be seen in an area like this, his desire for quality potions ingredients was stronger. Or, rather it had been, up until he'd caught a glimpse of three sets of feet badly concealed beneath an invisibility cloak trailing after the couple.   
  
He didn’t have a hood, a disadvantage of his long brown coat which he’d taken to wearing almost daily now. But, a quick transmutation later supplied him with a soft cap to tuck his hair into, striping him of an identifying characteristic. Though he did risk recognition briefly, as he shot the witch a hard look, he’d noticed her growing steadily closer over the last couple minutes and wasn't keen to continue their interaction. The woman froze as the full weight of his golden gaze bore into her, eyes widening, she bolted around the nearest corner muttering something about _Lupus_ under her breath as she went.   
  
Ed trailed the three disembodied feet at a distance, ducking into alcoves and around corners. The Malfoy’s disappeared into Borgin and Burkes, and the three went no further. Edward had a fairly good idea who they were. James Potter’s invisibility cloak had played a key role in several of Sirius’s school day tales, it seemed rather fitting his son would follow in his footsteps. In addition, anyone with an official reason to be trailing the Malfoy’s would likely know of another more complete way of hiding themselves. Or, in all likelihood, would refrain from traveling in such a cumbersome group.   
  
Ed drew nearer still as he snagged a discarded wanted poster barring the screaming mug of Bellatrix Lestrange. While hardly a face he wanted in any proximity to his own, he couldn’t very well stand unoccupied as he watched the trio spy.   
  
A hunched wizard pushed a cart down the lane, its wheels squeaking with every rotation. One of the three sneezed, and Ed could almost see Mustang facepalming at the lack subtleness in the whole affair. A shop door swung open and a tall man dragged his violently red-headed son behind him, and still, the Malfoy’s didn’t exit the store.   
  
Ed grew fidgety, stakeouts had never been his forte. And on a street such as this, with so much murky energy swirling about, it was as if the very air was protesting his stillness. Just as Ed was about to give up for the sake of his own sanity the door to Borgin and Burkes swung open. Draco exited first, head down and lips pressed into a thin, pale, line. He looked thinner than he had last winter, his eyes hollower. Ed supposed it was to be expected. Whatever else he was, Lucius Malfoy had been his father. He couldn’t imagine seeing him dragged off in such a fashion had been on any side of pleasant for the teen. Narcissa, who followed close behind, looked to anyone on the outside to be as composed as ever. But Ed, who had seen her the night of the Department of Mysteries, could see the pull of stress and anxiety in her gaze.   
  
For all their time in the shop, the two seemed to have left with only a solitary package. Wrapped in pale brown paper and no longer than his forearm, whatever it was, was quickly concealed beneath Draco’s robes.   
  
The trio departed moments later, and Ed took the opportunity to continue on with his business. As he weighed vials of dragon blood in his hands, Ed couldn’t help but wonder what Harry’s interest in the Malfoy’s was. He knew there was a fair amount of bad blood between the two, “git” had been thrown around quite a bit in relation to a certain heir, but Ed couldn’t tell if the trio’s interest extended beyond school, perhaps relating to Lucius’s actions.   
  
Whatever it was, he was sure to see more of it. Present tensions being what they were, Edward doubted any rivalry between the two would lessen in the confines of Hogwarts halls.   
  
\---   
  
Ed made his way back up to Diagon Alley, his pockets considerably heavier and a solid cauldron swinging from his automail hand. The first thing he noticed as he stepped out of the shadows was how quiet everything had become. While the alley could hardly have been called bustling before, it stood as a veritable ghost town now.   
  
Ed set his cauldron down on the corner as he peaked out around the edge of a boarded-up building. Four figures stood shoulder to shoulder across the alley. Ed took one look at their long black robes and tightened his grip on his wand.   
  
Looking closer now, Ed could see faces pressed to widows and peeking through blinds, observing with grotesque attention the scene before them. A man with greying hair than aged him anywhere between 30 and 50 lied half-sprawled across the cobblestones. His mouth flapped uselessly, fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, proving his muteness to be far from voluntary.   
  
Ed slid off his coat and laid it across his cauldron, not wanting to risk rustling. With a quick tug on his sleeves to ensure his gloves would stay in place, he crept forward.   
  
“Evening gentlemen,” Ed froze as a familiar mocking lilt filled the alley. “I admit it could just be me, but I tend to find public executions to be terribly artless at this day in age.” Olivia strode forward, wand hanging loosely in her hand, black curls swinging at her waist. The Death Eaters seemed taken aback by her sudden appearance, sharing glances with each other, unsure of how to respond. “I mean, we’ve gone through two wars in recent memory and this one is looking to be a rehash of the last,” she continued, stopping a few feet behind the fallen man. “Isn’t it all rather played out?”   
  
There was a moment were Ed realized he’d been standing as frozen as Voldemort’s men. Olivia’s gaze raised and met his, and Ed understood what was happening. It was a distraction. A distraction to allow Ed to close in while the Death Eater’s attention was diverted elsewhere. Well, he’d certainly blown that.   
  
“I'd have to say I agree,” he said, trying to keep his stride even as he grew closer. “If you would take your business elsewhere…” He locked eyes with one of the Death Eater’s behind his mask as the man whipped around, and Ed saw a flash of recognition. The men shifted uneasily, they hadn't expected resistance or the presence of other Death Eaters- or whatever they thought Ed was.   
  
The leftmost man took a step forward, his wand pointing outward. “Watch yourself boy.” He threatened. His voice was unfamiliar and taunting.   
  
Ed cracked his neck, “Well if that's how you want to play this, I’ve been itching for a way to blow off steam for ages.” He shifted his legs apart like Izumi had drilled into his head. He wasn't sure how this was going to go but he wasn't about to die in an alley at the hands of fricken grunts.   
  
“I couldn’t agree more,” Olivia responded coldly.   
  
In the next second the street exploded. Ed swore as he felt his automail crash sharply against the stones. A flash of light flew over his head, and Ed crawled on his stomach to the nearest alley. The Aurors it seemed, had arrived. Someone inside the shops it seemed had made better use of Olivia's distraction than he had.   
  
A low baritone yelled something over the din, and Ed’s limbs suddenly felt heavier, like the blood in his body had turned to lead. Anti-Apparition magic if he had to wager. His theory was all but confirmed as a shadowy figure whipped around the corner nearly plowing into him. The Death Eater’s mask had come off in the scuffle and he fumbled for his wand wildly as his eyes landed on Ed.   
  
He made a split second decision then, retroactive damage control you could say, and Ed wrapped his hand tightly around the man's wrist holding the wand away from his face. “Are you trying to make me jinx you?” Ed hissed.   
  
The man blinked dumbly, still trying to pull his arm from Ed’s metal grasp. “Wha-?”   
  
“The fuck were you thinking to do this out in the open?” Ed said, pulling the man down to his level. The Death Eater was young, twenty at most. “Scare tactics only work as long as you're intimidating enough to actually scare people!” A loud explosion around the corner caused both of them to freeze for a moment. “You can’t have fucking girls, coming out and showing you up.” Ed spat out, the words burning like acid in his throat. _Winry would kill him for saying that._ “Get out of here!” Ed said throwing the man off. “Get out of here!”   
  
"Why?"   
  
Ed gave his best-disgusted snarl, "I'm on your side, you idiot! Now go, or I'll give you back to the Auror's"   
  
The man stared at him for a moment before scampering off, clutching his wrist to his chest.   
  
Ed couldn’t let them kill that man, but the audience had meant there would be consequences to his actions. Now at least, it didn’t look like he was totally betraying the promise he’d made to Voldemort’s forces.   
  
Ed counted to three before jumping back out into the street. The two remaining Death Eaters were giving it their all, but the Auror’s were not alone. A few wizards who had started hidden inside storefronts had joined the fight making the Death Eaters easily overpowered. Ed sent a freezing charm flying, electing a scream from one of the men as he found ice creeping up from the ground over his legs. A woman sent a stunner past him, and the Wizard fell. His partner followed shortly leaving two black-clad men lying face down in the street.   
  
The fourth it seemed possessed more skill than his counterparts. It was the man who'd recognized him, but with his mask, Ed still couldn't think of his name. All he knew was that this man could not be allowed to make it out of the alley.   
  
_"Stupify!"_ He hissed, dodging a spray of stone shards from a wayward spell. The man blocked, hurling something resembling blue flame at Ed's chest in response. Ed hit the deck, unable to get his wand up in time. From the ground he watched As Olivia and a pale young Auror struck him simultaneously, taking advantage of the opening his attack on Ed had created.   
  
The man hit the ground with a dull thud. Ed's ears rang with the aftermath of the chaos as he watched the Death Eaters for any sign of them getting up. “Three out of four ain't bad.” Olivia’s voice floated through the smoke, her eyes flashing with the manic energy that was adrenaline. She had a long cut across her forehead steadily leaking blood and a deep split lip. But beyond that, Olivia looked no worse for the wear. “What do you think Ed?”   
  
“E-?”   
  
Ed whipped his head around effectively silencing the woman who had begun to speak. She was Order for sure. Sirius’s cousin, he thought. Tonks, Tonks was her name. He gave a slight shake of his head and crossed the road to Olivia. “Four out of four is better,” he replied trying to match her light tone, despite the feeling of Tonks’s eyes boring into the back of his head. “Let’s go yeah?” he said, taking hold of her arm.   
  
“Wait a moment!” The young Auror exclaimed. “We need a statement!”   
  
“No.” Olivia blinked in surprise as Tonks spoke up. “Let them pass McNamara.” Ed sent her a quick nod and pulled Olivia after him towards where he’d left his purchases. In his head, he ran through potential outcomes at breakneck speed. There would be no keeping this secret from anyone. Even still, stepping in was the right thing to do. It couldn’t make up for what Ed was prepared to let slide, but if he was willing to just let everyone die, it was no better than sacrificing their lives for his transmutation.   
  
“There any way they could identify you?” Ed asked under his breath as they walked.   
  
“Can’t say for sure,” she mumbled. “I couldn’t see who they were.” she paused. “...There was an old classmate of mine in the crowd. Susie Lewis. A Ravenclaw in my year. She wouldn’t give me up willingly but…”   
  
“...That won’t make a difference, right.” Ed swore.   
  
“And you? I mean, I know you’re a bit of a hermit but could they figure out who you are?”   
  
Ed winced, “Don’t worry about it.”   
  
“Ed-”   
  
“It doesn’t matter, I’ll be at Hogwarts in a few weeks. I mean, you’re the one who called it the safest place in the world.”   
  
She frowned, clearly not satisfied with his answer. Then she spoke, “It’s really begun, hasn’t it? The War?”   
  
“Yeah,” Ed sighed. “I think it has.” he paused. "What'll you do? You have to assume they'll be after you now."   
  
She shrugged, "The same thing as my parents I suppose. Disappear." Olivia sighed, "I always hoped I was just being paranoid not getting rid of the pub's enchantments."   
  
Ed nodded slowly, his chest hurt. He felt like he was standing on a precipice, and every move he made took him closer to the edge. One of these days the ledge was just going to give way, and he had a horrible feeling he wouldn't be the only one falling when that day came.


	2. The Hogwarts Express

Amah shifted awkwardly as Ed snapped his trunk shut. He left out a shallow breath and ran his fingers through his golden hair. “Well then,” he muttered. “I best get going.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’ll keep the house nice and clean for your return.”

Ed cleared his throat, “Actually,” he began. “There’s a friend of mine, I’d like you to serve her while I’m away.”

“Sir?”

“Olivia Ridley. She owns a pub not far from here.”

“Yes, sir, I can do that,” she replied, seemingly confused by it all, but Ed couldn’t imagine leaving her all alone with no one to interact with for months. “Same rules apply. Even if you take orders from her, you aren’t to mention anything about my work, Mr. Bones, or my… condition.” he added. He may trust Olivia, but if worse came to worse, that was information he couldn’t afford to get out. Particularly that he became all but incapacitated nearly every month.

“Yes Sir,” she squeaked, long ears flopping as she bowed.

“...And Amah?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“If anything is to... happen to me while I’m away, there are some papers locked in the drawer of my desk that you should pass onto Mr. Bones. Do you understand?”

Amah looked sad at his words, her eyes not meeting his as she nodded. It was odd. He hadn’t really thought she liked him all that much. His inability to get used to having an actual servant meant he was hardly the most compassionate master. It made him sad to think that if the opportunity to go home presented itself he likely wouldn’t get to say goodbye. Not her, or Olivia, or Remus if the man would still see him. He would just be gone. He’d disappear almost as if Edward Elric had never existed in this world at all.

Ed gave a stilted nod towards her, and made his way down the grand staircase of his father’s estate were the fireplace sat. One handful of Floo powder later and the room danced alive with green flames. He drew a breath. Only one thing to do now. Ed stepped into the flames and watched his home disappear.

The witch behind the counter of the shop he’d appeared in, gave him a nod as he stepped out of the flames.

“New school year eh?” she said, leaning forward so the long beaded necklaces she wore scraped across the glass countertop.

“New school year,” Ed agreed, paying no mind to the way the witch subtly pushed her goods towards him as if to entice him to buy one of her cheaply enchanted rings. No, Ed had no time for any of that. He had a train to catch.

\---

Pansy clung to his arm like a vise. Her thin fingers wrapped tightly in the folds of his blazer. He didn’t know why he minded so much, he never had before. But now, in the face of the duty the Dark Lord had given him, it all just seemed so trivial.

Pansy gave a squeal and raced off to the right as she spotted Elizabeth handing her trunk off to a porter. She tried to pull Draco with her, but he shook himself out of her grasp.

“You go ahead,” he said. “I have some things I need to do before we get on board.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked earnestly.

“No, really Pans I’m fine. Go catch up with Lizzy.” She gave him a slight frown as if considering her actions before bolting off towards the brunette heiress. He watched her go. Slipping through the throes of people before slowing to a more dignified pace as she neared the girl. Satisfied, that she wasn’t about to drag her friend back over to him, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

The collar of his shirt felt tight around his throat, and he could have sworn he felt the quiet pulse of the cursed necklace through his case. It was hardly his first choice of weapon. Things, objects, could be traced. All it took was one person seeing the wrong thing and everything could unravel. But, with the vanishing cabinets status uncertain as it was, he was left with little other choices. Dumbledore would die. The headmaster would die before the year was out as had been instructed, because if he didn’t, Draco had no illusions that the Dark Lord would kill him quickly.

Through the sea of people, Draco made out a familiar looking head of golden hair. Elric was trudging away from the portal wall looking disgruntled and muttering under his breath. Whatever the alchemist could have been saying was covered by the shrill sound of the Hogwarts Express whistle.

“Elric!” Draco called out, raising his hand in the air. “This way.” Edward sent him a nod and proceeded to elbow his way through the masses, seemingly unconcerned by the looks people were throwing at him.

“Draco, long time no see,” Elric said, switching his case to his right hand to shake Draco’s with his left. He returned the gesture, though he feared his movements may have gone a bit stiff under Elric’s golden glare. He had to remind himself that the Hoeinheim’s for whatever reason had golden eyes. That the gaze staring him down was human, and not the hungry eyes of Fenrir Greyback who made a point to lick his lips every time he entered a room, almost as if imagining Draco’s flesh between his teeth.

“Likewise.” he finally responded, knowing he’d been silent for too long. “You’re more than welcome in my carriage for the trip,” he said, “unless of course, you have somewhere else to go?”

Elric gave a dry laugh. “Shockingly,” he said, “A life isolated away and devoted to Alchemy does not produce many friends. I think I’ll have to take you up on that.”

The train’s whistle sounded again in warning.

“Speaking of which…”

Elric nodded, “Oh I know, I’ve ridden more trains than you could possibly believe.” He gestured with his free hand, “lead the way.”

Draco directed the blond through the crowded platform towards the part of the train he knew to be dominated by Slytherin’s. Alone first year sat perched, clutching his bag in the compartment in which he usually sat.

“And what, pray tell, are you doing sitting here?” he asked. The boy whipped around, his eyes widening under a mess of dirty blond curls.

“I- I didn’t realize there was assigned seating. I’m new you see. Didn’t even know about magic up until a few months-”

“And what sort of excuse is that?” he spat. Draco could feel his headache returning. All he wanted was to sit down and rest his eyes some before he was forced to return to that asylum they called a school.

“I-!”

“Draco Malfoy, five minutes into the new year and you’re already off terrorizing children,” came a familiar Irish lilt. “Whatever shall we do with you?” Elizabeth walked up the narrow aisle arm and arm with Pansy, who for whatever reason looked quite pleased with herself.

“I’ll leave, I will!” came the first year's voice. “I swear. If you would just tell me where I’m supposed-”

“Come along dear,” Lizzy said slipping past him to beckon the kid out, “I’ll get you where you need to go.” Draco rolled his eyes as the blond wiggled past him, throwing wide-eyed looks over his shoulder as Lizzy led him on. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she called back to them. “And then I want introductions!”

“Oh yes!” Pansy squealed. “Draco, who is your new friend?” He turned, almost having forgotten about Elric.

“In a moment,” he said letting himself into the compartment. “We should wait for everyone else to arrive, I don’t feel like repeating myself.” As he put his case up in the luggage rack Pansy situated herself by the window, and Elric proceeded to take the seat across from her. His own trunk he kept on the ground, which he proceeded to prop his feet up on top. Looking briefly across the way at Draco, Elric motioned to a small book tucked away in the jacket pocket as if to ask if it was okay for him to read. Draco shrugged. Elric’s antisocialism was all the better for his head, the only one he could see being bothered by the silent treatment would be Pans’, and she’d be occupied soon enough when Lizzy returned from dumping that first year wherever she saw fit.

Of course, Draco’s dreams of peace and quiet were shortly shattered by the appearance of the head of Blaise Zabini. Or rather, the mouth of Blaize Zabini.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” the boy exclaimed, tailored coat draped over one of his extended arms. “You could have died for all I’ve heard from you!” he said, swinging himself fully into the compartment.

“Ever think that could have been intentional,” Draco replied dryly, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Elric’s gaze had stopped moving across the page he’d been working on.

“What’s gotten into you then?” Pansy asked arms crossed tightly across her stomach. “You’re never this upbeat. ‘Nother step-father of yours die over the break or something?” Elric fully raised his gaze from his book at that comment. No doubt wherever Flamel had him stashed away, had kept him fairly isolated from gossip like that.

“No,” he said, shooting Pansy a look. “Nothing like that. It’s just that, according to a letter my mother received, we Slytherin’s are getting an ally on staff this year. And I mean, one that’s not completely off her rocker like Umbridge.

“She was fine up until she made us all look like idiots during the O.W.L.S,” Pansy said with a frown.

Draco snorted. “I don’t know about you Pans’, but I think if I had to hear that stupid giggle one more time I would have done her in before those filthy half-breeds got their hands on her. Even if the pain she put Potter through was good for a laugh.”

“It was all well and good to see the others suffer for a bit,” Blaise added. “But it wasn’t like Snape or nothing. We may have been her house, but I got the distinct impression that she wouldn’t have given a rats ass about the rest of us if it wouldn't’ have riled Potter up.”

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you,” Elric’s voice suddenly came in perfect deadpan. “But I thought I was going to have to bleach my eyeballs after seeing the inside of that woman’s office.” Pansy shrieked in laughter, clutching Draco’s arm tightly. A reaction he found to be a little excessive as his headache threatened to slip into full-on migraine territory.

“When were you in Umbridge’s office?” Draco asked, “Weren’t you still gallivanting off in Russia or something all last year?”

“Germany,” Elric corrected. “And I was there, to have my exam to make sure I could join the 6th year. They wouldn’t just let me join my age group because they didn’t have and hard records of my abilities.”

“Ah, yes, see- what are those abilities then?” Blaise spoke, raising his hand a little, almost as if asking to be called on. “Actually, more importantly, who the hell are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Pansy said, cutting Elric off before he could speak. “Draco’s being very mysterious about it all. He won’t tell us anything until everyone shows.”

“Well, who's left then?”

“Crabbe, Goyle, and Harris.” Draco intoned dully.

“Just Crabbe and Goyle now!” Lizzy said, pushing past Blaise to sit next to Pansy.

“Where’d you dump the kid?” He asked with mild curiosity as he swept a wayward strand of blonde hair behind his ear.

“With the Hufflepuffs,” she said, slipping off her gloves and tucking them away.

“Poor sod,” Blaise responded, despite having no idea who they were talking about.

“Hardly.” Draco replied, “With that lot, he’ll have made twelve lifelong friends by the time we leave the station. She’s done him a bloody favor.”

Lizzy snorted, “The compartment was full. Draco had traumatized the kid so bad with all his shouting-”

“-I barely did anything!-”

“-I thought it would be funny to see who would tell the kid he couldn’t sit with them.”

“And?”

“They made him a seat on the damn floor.”

“Merlin.” Draco moaned. “This is exactly why the other academies get such an elitist complex about their alma maters.”

“Mate,” Blaise said. “I hardly think that’s the only reason. I mean, have you heard our school song?”

“I bet Durmstrang doesn’t have to put up with fucking improve hair braiding circles.”

“That’s not the only kind of circles I hear the Hufflepuff's get up too,” Blaise said making a rude hand gesture.

Pansy made a disgusted tisk as Lizzy responded with a “that’s fucking gross”.

“Sit down before you embarrass yourself further,” Draco said his hand pressed to his forehead with a pained wince. “Or better yet, leave. Do us all a favor for once in your godforsaken life.” The words came out a little harsher than Draco meant them and a weird tension filled the air.

“Why do I have to leave? If it’s carriage space your worried about, why not expel Man o’ Mystery over here!” Blaise said gesturing to Elric. While his voice still carried a tone of joking, there was something darker undercutting it. Draco had a distinct feeling he was about to find out what Blaise really wanted. “Or Lizzy. Heiress, she may be, but her dads still a fucking Muggle.” Lizzy’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing. Pansy beside her shifted in her seat but didn’t rise to the defense of her friend. “Or, you know. I’ve just had a brilliant idea, why don’t we expel you?”

The air seemed to drop several degrees. “Watch yourself Zabini…” Draco warned.

“Watch myself or what?” He hissed in response. “Your father can’t do anything from inside a cell in Azkaban.”

Draco rose to his feet, his nose inches away from Zabini’s own. They must have looked a sight, Draco all pale and angular in direct contrast with Zabini’s dark broad shoulders. He could almost feel the others placing bets. Who’d send the first spell flying? Who’d walk away? Draco tightened his grip on his wand, this wasn’t a fight he could afford to lose. Zabini had been right about one thing, with his father arrested the Malfoy name meant little to nothing if he couldn’t show he too demanded respect.

“I think that’s enough now.”

Draco felt a solid hand rest against his chest. The weight wasn’t a hard one, but the firmness in which it sat revealed the possible power that it could deliver if he didn’t step down. Elric wasn’t looking at him, his gaze was entirely focused on Zabini who looked almost as if he was going to faint under the weight of his eyes.

“What’s this? Have you a fucking attack dog now?” Zabini’s voice shook even as he spat the insult back in Elric’s face.

“I said enough!” Draco watched the boys teeth grit, he imagined the comment was something of a sore point. He couldn’t imagine being compared to- to one of those. Constantly. Without any basis in proof. Sure he had the eyes, but Draco didn’t think there was a werewolf in existence that could lay claim to eyes as golden as a Hoenheim. But even he had to admit, not knowing the truth, he would have thought the same as Blaise if he was stared down by Elric.

Zabini sat. Elric remained standing for a moment as if to ensure Draco wasn’t going to jump him, before returning to his seat and picking up his book where it had been discarded. Draco moved past Pansy and seated himself next to the window, both girls moving to put some distance between him and Zabini. The compartment door snapped open with a loud smack as Crabbe and Goyle stumbled in.

Each of the occupants turned towards the two newcomers as they blinked stupidly at where Elric sat, seemingly confused by the fact that they hadn’t been given the entire bench to themselves this year.

“Can I help you?” Elric asked with narrowed eyes as the starring continued for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Sit down you great lumps!” Draco hissed, with a wave of his hand. It took a few minutes until they stopped slamming into each other in an attempt to get their cases up first and finally sit down. Though, as soon as they had finally been seated a hush again fell.

“Now Draco, don’t you have someone to introduce?” Pansy said barely concealed anticipation behind her eyes.

Elric simply raised a brow at him and gestured for him to speak.

“This,” he cleared his throat. “Is Edward Elric, heir the Hohenheim family and only surviving apprentice of Nicholas Flamel.” No one responded. “Elric, this is Pansy Parkinson, Elizabeth Harris, Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe. Fellow Slytherin’s and classmates of ours.”

“Yo,” Blaise responded with a little half wave as if he hadn't been seconds away from trying to tear Draco's throat out only moments before. And at that moment, Draco had never wanted to die of embarrassment more than he did just then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed is officially on his way to Hogwarts!


	3. Darkened Stars

The train crawled to a halt as night fell, and Ed felt rejuvenated in a way he hadn’t since coming to this word. Screw Floo Powder or Apparition, give him a good dependable train any day. He shook out his shoulders as he stood, getting used to the looseness of his school robes. The others seemed to be doing the same, eager to return blood flow to their limbs after sitting for so long. Draco, however, was acting peculiar.    
  
As the Malfoy heir moved around the carriage he kept shooting half glances at the empty baggage rack above Ed’s head. After the fifth time he did it, Ed allowed his senses to reach out slowly, feeling for anything magically out of place. Frowning Ed focused more strongly on the strange weight that seemed to rest above their heads. He’d felt this before. He just couldn’t quite… Goddamnit Harry. Ed let out a weary sigh that drew a raised brow from the Harris girl.    
  
“Drakey? Are you coming?” Pansy asked leaning in from the doorway.    
  
“I’ll be along in a second, you all go on without me.”   
  
Elizabeth linked her arm around Pansy’s as she hesitated, “Come on, we can save him a seat on the carriage.” Pansy nodded and followed her friend with a brief glance back. Leaving Ed alone, or rather, seemingly alone in the train compartment.    
  
“Move along Elric, I’ve got something I need to take care of.” Ed didn’t respond, just lowered a weighted gaze onto Malfoy, looking him up and down.    
  
“I’ll be waiting,” he responded finally, dragging his trunk along behind him as he exited. The glass door clicked shut behind him. Ed’s footsteps clunked hollowly against the floor of the train. As he passed the door three compartments away, the hairs on the back of his neck raised. A spell had been cast.    
  
Ed didn’t look back.    
  
As he stepped out of the train and onto the platform he was greeted by several wizards in long black robes. Several of them were directing and hurrying along the straggling remaining students from the train, while the others scanned the station with the careful gaze of soldiers on watch. One of the wizards moved towards him, clearly intending to sheppard him along with the other teens, but from over the man's shoulder, Ed could make out a familiar face.    
  
Ed sidestepped the man innocently. He caught the sound of an indignant “Hey!” As he crossed the platform at a brisk pace conscious of the eyes he was drawing. A quick glance over his shoulder told him he was the last student left. Good. He could feel the tension in the air as fifteen Auror’s readied their wands for a potential fight. But Ed wasn’t here to fight, and as he neared his target he raised his hand over his head, drawing her attention.    
  
“Ed?-“    
  
“-Seventh compartment from the back,” Ed said cutting Tonks off abruptly. Then he added, “I didn’t tell you that.”   
  
She nodded, a serious expression falling across her face as she turned towards the train. “Clear out, I’ll take it from here.”   
  
Ed returned the gesture and retreated away, just managing a casual lean against the ornate iron gates before Draco emerged. His hands, Ed noticed, were shaking.    
  
“I’ve given Zabini far to little credit.” Draco said, “you really are like a dog nipping at my heels.”   
  
Ed shrugged, “I said I’d be waiting.”   
  
Draco clenched his jaw like he was picking his words with care. “I don’t need any help.” He finally said.    
  
“Who said I was helping you with anything,” Ed responded neutrally, feeling as if he may have just stumbled across something important.    
  
“Nevermind.”    
  
“Draco-”   
  
“I said nevermind!”   
  
Ed nodded, and the two of them walked in silence until they came upon a clearing where a carriage rested. As they moved around to the side, Ed thought his heart had stopped when his eyes fell on what pulled them. The gaunt, black creature that stood before him met Ed’s eyes with an even gaze. Their eyes drew forth the memory of being pulled into the gate, and his mind could bring forth only one word to describe them. Death.    
  
“You can see them then?”   
  
Ed whirled around, almost having forgotten about Draco entirely. “You can’t?”   
  
“Not yet.” He replied darkly. And then, after a pause, “They’re called Threstrals You can only see them once you’ve seen and comprehended death.”   
  
Ed gave a half bitter snort, the only way he was really able to process what was in front of him. “I’m shocked you can’t see them.”   
  
Draco narrowed his eyes, “what’s that supposed to mean Elric?”   
  
“Just that since making your acquaintance I’ve been faced with the deaths of an inordinate about of people who I truly liked. I had to wonder which one of us was the cursed one.”   
  
Draco was silent for a moment. “The Rosier girl right? I remember her from the party.”   
  
“Elia and all her family.” He confirmed. “I would also say I was fairly attached to the Flamel’s, closest to home I’ve been in a long while.”   
  
“I was under the impression you didn’t particularly like the man?”   
  
Ed shrugged. “Like has nothing to do with it.”   
  
“So it was them then, the ones who let you see?”   
  
“These are oddly personal questions for only our second time together Malfoy,” Ed said, his words combing out harsher than he intended them. He sighed. “No, they aren’t.”   
  
“Then?”    
  
“My mother.”   
  
Draco fell silent. “She must have meant a lot to you,” Ed shot him a confused look. “I mean, you took her name, Elric, rather than your father’s.”   
  
Ed gave a long, low sigh. “My mother was the only parent I ever had. I’d leave my father’s name behind completely if I could.”   
  
“He made you his heir didn’t he?”   
  
Ed scoffed. “He didn’t have much choice in that, I’m the only legacy he had to give. Me and my brother that is. Course,” he added quietly. “That doesn’t matter much anymore.”    
  
Al wasn’t dead. His little brother was alive and well- just, very far away at the moment. Even still, those words to Malfoy hurt more than he thought they would. But Ed knew he had to stick to his story. Deviations would bring suspicion, and for as good at his job as Ed was sure Bones was, he wasn’t confident that an inspection into his records wouldn’t reveal that he really hadn’t been a person until a year ago.   
  
The conversation petered off as the carriage neared the gates of a massive castle that blocked out the night sky. Ed gave an appreciative whistle as he eyed the school, whoever had designed this place was certainly of the same mind as him on decorations.    
  
—-   
  
Harry staggered as Tonks helped him to his feet. “How’d you find me?” He mumbled through his broken nose.    
  
Tonks gave him an overly affronted look, though Harry noted even in her dramatics she wasn’t nearly as lively as the previous year. “Mr. Potter, I’ll have you know I am a highly trained Auror, I’m hurt and offended you would doubt my skills!”   
  
“Yeah, yeah.”   
  
“And you?”   
  
“What?”   
  
“Don’t what me, what were you doing Harry?” Her voice got softer. “You have to be careful, you’ve got enough enemies in this world without picking fights with your classmates.”   
  
Harry pulled away, “Tonks, you have to believe me, I think Draco Malfoy’s a Death Eater.” She sighed, “and-“ he paused, a frown skewing up his face, “another thing.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“I- it’s weird. But, Ed, Edward Elric. The kid who stayed at Grimmauld Place last summer?”   
  
“Yes, we’ve met.”   
  
“Well, he- he disappeared last year. Like just vanished for a while. And I had these dreams, like my one with Mr. Weasley, where the Death Eaters- they were hunting him.” He paused. “And then later, at the Department- when Sirius- he was there Tonks.”   
  
“Yeah,” She said hushed, “I know.”   
  
“He hid the prophecy, and frankly I forgot all about it by the end of it all, but when we got back there was just a note, sitting waiting for us, telling everyone where he’d stashed it.”   
  
She frowned, “I know Harry, I was there.”   
  
He held up a hand as if asking her to bear with him, “but the thing is, I saw him tonight.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“And the thing is, he was with Malfoy.”   
  
She frowned, “Harry I really don’t think he’s a-“   
  
“IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT MALFOY IS!” Harry froze. “It doesn’t matter what Draco is, because Ed would know. He would know about the Malfoy’s. He was there Tonks. He was there. So why is he with them?”   
  
Tonks didn’t have an answer to give him.    
  
—   
  
Ed walked up the stairs to the Great Hall beside Draco, admiring the intricately crafted wall of knights that adorned them. The hall was lit entirely by torchlight, there was no moonlight to shine, and the colored glass of the castle's windows muted out any starlight. Ed could hear a dull roar coming from behind the massive doors that dominated the corridor, and he felt a light pricking along his skin as magic ebbed and flowed from within the Castle’s walls Behind them somewhere Ed could hear the sound of approaching children giggling and whispering to each other.    
  
“Come on,” Draco said jerking his head towards the hall, “We don’t want to get caught out here with all the first years.” The two of them hurried up the remaining steps, footsteps echoing hollowly through the large room. Draco’s hand had just closed around the handle of the massive room when a tightly wound scroll tapped Ed’s shoulder lightly.   
  
“No, Mr. Elric, I’m afraid Mr. Malfoy will have to move on without you for now.” Ed turned to face the stern visage of Professor McGonagall.   
  
“Ma’am?”   
  
“That's professor, Mr. Elric. I am not your matron or your mother.”   
  
“Sorry,” he responded, feeling behind him the way Draco shifted back and forth. “I meant no offense by it.”   
  
“I’m sure you didn’t,” she said, her face revealing nothing. “Run along Mr. Malfoy.”    
  
Draco turned away quickly and slipped into the room without a look back at Ed. The Alchemist got the distinct impression the Slytherin had been looking to get away from him since they got out of the carriage. “Professor? Have I done something wrong?”   
  
McGonagall raised a brow at him. “Not unless you have something to tell me, Mr. Elric?” Ed shook his head but couldn’t help but hear the deeper question there. “You, Mr. Elric, are yet to be sorted.”   
  
Ed blinked. He knew about sorting of course. Even without Olivia and Sirius being chronic oversharers, it seemed a Wizard’s house was almost as important as their political status. Elia’s family, the ones who’d attended Hogwarts, were- had been, he mentally corrected himself, had been Slytherin’s. As were the Malfoy’s. Sirius, Remus, Harry- and well frankly most of the order it seemed, were all proud Gryffindors. Tonks being the exception it appeared, as he had a distinct memory of her dramatically flipping a yellow scarf over her shoulder while disappearing into the fireplace. Of course, at that point, he was still rather new to Grimmauld Place and had been more concerned with her changing appearance than the meaning behind her scarf color and she’d been little more than a nameless face to him.   
  
“So what do I do?” he asked. “Is there a test? I thought I’d taken care of all of that beforehand.”   
  
“No, no Mr. Elric,” Ed noted that the woman actually seemed rather amused by his worry, or rather as amused a Minerva McGonagall would ever be. “It’s very simple really, I’ll just ask you to wait with the first years until I call your name.” As she finished speaking, the kids Ed had heard approaching reached them. They stumbled up the stairs wide-eyed, and several of them Ed noted, were dripping with water from head to toe as if they’d decided to go for a spontaneous midnight swim.   
  
McGonagall moved forward and began directing them into a tight group, explaining in a serious voice about the importance of houses. Ed, however, was distracted from her speech due to the pleasant realization that he was taller than all but three of the children standing before him. And well, those three were just abnormal trees and he could hardly be blamed for that. As he scanned the group with a slight grin spread across his face he began to feel a slight tingle along the back of his spine almost like a cool breath. Ed grin slipped off his face as the sensation grew stronger. Then, a girl three rows from the back let out an ear piercing scream. Ed whirled around, his action mirrored by the dozens of eleven-year-olds beside him. Pale translucent figures began to slide out of the walls Ed had been admiring only minutes before.   
  
“Why hello there!” one of the figures exclaimed, drifting quickly down towards them.   
  
“GHOST!” screamed a boy, and Ed saw him try to back away out of the corner of his eye. Ed himself wanted to do nothing more than follow him, but his limbs felt weighed down by lead. He knew about ghosts. During his last year in this world, he’d come across them in reading many many times, but there was something decidedly different about knowing of their existence, and suddenly being put face to face with the soul of someone dead. He’d assumed that if he were ever forced to encounter one he’d be able to simply dismiss it a magic, tuck it away in that little box of things he wasn’t ready to look too deeply into. But now, with four floating down towards him, all he could think of was that it was _wrong._   
  
“Well, you seem to be rather tall for a first year.” Came a voice directly to Ed’s left. As he whipped around he found himself face to face with an opaque balding man, a smile stretched wide across his face.   
  
“N-no.” Ed stuttered out in surprise, feeling the muscles tense all throughout his body. “I’m a transfer.”   
  
The man let out an earth-shaking laugh, his hands clasped against his stomach as his undead body shook. “Why so pale? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”   
  
“Come along Frier,” came the voice of one of the other ghosts, this man being thinly robbed and draped in chains. “We should make our way to our tables.”   
  
“Right you are!” the Frier exclaimed. “Must go and say hello!” and with that, the Friar gave Ed an exaggerated wink and sped off through the door. The chained man floated off to the side as the other remaining ghost, this one a man dressed in ruffles and finery, followed after the Frier. As Ed watched, the chained man's eyes drifted towards him and gazed at him evenly, just when it seemed as if the man was to speak, he turned and floated through the door and out of sight.   
  
  
The ghosts having departed, Ed could hear the first years babbling excitedly to one another.    
  
“Ghosts! Real life ghosts!-”   
  
“Well, actually I think by definition you can't ever see real live ghosts-”   
  
“-I can’t wait to write home to my sister-”   
  
“-My uncle Albert has five ghosts living in his manor-”   
  
“Who was that imposing chap with the chains?-”   
  
“All the others stopped to talk, but the lady just went past us all-”   
  
“Settle down students.” McGonagall didn’t even bother to raise her voice over the din, yet, somehow all it took were those three words to plunge the room into silence. The doors behind her swung open slowly, pulled by an unseen force. Behind them lay a massive room laden with candles and five massive tables for students and staff. Most impressively to Ed, however, was the soaring ceiling that seemed to fade away into the heavens above their heads. Ed starred up at it as he wandered into the room, something inside him burning at the sight of something beautiful that Alchemy could never achieve.   
  
Ed and the first years were stopped in the front of the room as McGonagall moved off to the side to retrieve something. He was conscious of the eyes from around the room that watched them, each of the houses hungrily sizing up their potential members. Ed knew he was drawing more than his share of gazes, as people around the room wondered what he was doing among the much younger kids. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pansy wave to him from the Slytherin table, and on his other side the even gazes of familiar Gryffindors, But, the sight that held his attention was the eyes of none other than Albus Dumbledore staring down at him from on high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really meant to have this up earlier in the day, but Ao3 was down must of the morning where I currently am and I didn't get back home till 12:30 AM so apologies on the rushed editing!


	4. The Sorting Hat

The Headmaster’s eyes met his own for a moment. Old, ancient, grey connecting with vibrant gold. Ed would like to say that an understanding past between the two of them, that he came away from the tension-filled examination with a better understanding of Dumbledore’s play, but, when the wizard broke eye contact there was nothing. It was like looking at a wall. Olivia had once described coming upon a man on the street with such strong mental barriers that she had felt nauseous just being near to him. Like her mind, so use to gently brushing itself amongst others, didn’t know how to react to being stopped so completely. He wondered if that was what this was like.   
  
Mustang had once told him after he’d landed himself in a bit of trouble by taking the wrong person at their word, that if you wanted to know if someone was telling you the truth, you just had to watch their eyes. (He had then proceeded to tell him that Ed probably had too short an attention span to bother with something like that. So Ed, in turn, had proceeded to try and strangle the colonel from his hospital bed.)  Greed seemed to believe something similar, saying that a person’s eyes would always tell you what they really wanted. He’d never offered a further elaboration on that, but he’d seemed quite proud of himself for it so neither Heinkel, Darius, or himself had ever said anything to the contrary.   
  
But from Dumbledore’s eyes, he got nothing.   
  
Professor McGonagall returned then. From her hand dangled a ratty old hat that had clearly seen better days. She settled the thing on a three-legged stool and rejoined the mob of first years, all the while watching the hat intently. For a moment nothing happened, and then, much to Ed’s shock the brim of the hat ripped open and it began to sing.   
  
__ I’ve been around a good thousand years,   
And I’ve done my job quite well.   
I’ll sort you to you to your proper places,   
As you shall all soon tell.   
  
Hufflepuff for those loyal and kind,   
There you’ll meet your friends.   
Ravenclaw for the witty and wise,   
Together no one else contends.   
  
Gryffindor those brave and bold,   
Never to flee a fight.   
Slytherin of cunning and guile,   
Always looking to win the night.   
  
To whatever house you find yourself,   
Work to be a credit to,   
I’ve yet to be wrong in all my years,   
I doubt the first will be you.   
  
Now listen close,   
I’ll say this but a single time.   
As the darkness nears,   
To falter is a crime.   
  
Stand together,   
Trust your friends.   
Only by staying close,   
Will we all make it to the end.   
  
The room was silent, everyone fixed staring at the hat as its brim closed and it grew silent again. Someone to Ed's left started a gentle round of applause but it was weak, worried. The Great Hall seems to have dropped several degrees throughout the song, and students glanced awkwardly between their friends and the hat. McGonagall strode forward. If she was perturbed by the hat's warning she didn't show it.   
  
“Aaron, Linda” She called out in a loud clear voice. A small girl with curly brown pigtails stepped forward hesitantly and walked towards to the witch. McGonagall lifted the hat from the stool and motioned for the girl to sit down. As she did, McGonagall lowered the ratty article onto the girls head, the hat sitting far below her eyes. Everything was silent for a moment, then two, then-   
  
_“GRYFFINDOR!”_ The hat cried out and a thunderous cheer erupted from the table Ed has been avoiding looking at.   
  
“Alderson, Spenser” A mess of blond curls parted the crowd, and Ed recognized the kid Draco had scared out of the compartment earlier. The hat took less time with him than Linda, giving a cry of-   
  
_“GRYFFINDOR!”_ the kid's face lit up and he scrambled off the stool and took a seat near Linda as he was greeted with enthusiastic slaps to the back.   
  
The next kid, a boy with bright green eyes a dark hair was sent to Hufflepuff, the girl after to Slytherin, the next three ended up in Ravenclaw, and on and on it went. It’s wasn't until McGonagall called up Earls, James that Ed realizes that he was next. James was sent to Gryffindor and the room fell back into a hush when McGonagall read his name out. He could see the students scoping out the crowd of first years trying to figure out which one was Elric, Edward and the second he began moving, directing the smaller kids out of his way with a light hand on their back, the room erupted into chatter. He caught snippets as he approaches the stool.   
  
“-awful old looking-”   
  
“-handsome-”   
  
“-heard the name, Elric?-”   
  
“-possible to miss someone?-”   
  
“-eyes-”   
  
“-his eyes-”   
  
“-is he one of them?-”   
  
He settled on to the stool, tuning out the world as McGonagall lowered the hat on to his head. It took everything he had not to jump as the hat's voice whispered into his ear.   
  
“You know, you older ones are always much more of a challenge.”   
  
_“How's that?”_ Ed wondered to himself.   
  
“Your minds are so much more complex at this point,” Ed raised a brow in slight surprise when he realized the hat was responding to his question. “When you’re young, it's much easier to find a base character trait. As you get older, your original ideas and personality are challenged. You adapt, and everything becomes much murkier.”   
  
“Oh? Then how do you sort ‘someone like me’ then?”   
  
“I look at what drives you, your decision making progress. Are you Motivated by loyalty? A thirst for knowledge? A sense of Altruism? Power? Of course, it’s not just black and white. A solid, well-rounded person should exhibit all of these to some extent. And you do.” the hat was quiet for a moment and he could feel a slight pull in his mind. It wasn’t invasive like Dumbledore or clumsy like Olivia, it was almost kind, gentle. “You’ve lived a life of extremes. Extreme sorrow and loss and love. In another world I would have easily put you in Ravenclaw, your hunger for knowledge rivals the minds of the founders own hand-picked pupils, however, you don’t hunger for knowledge for knowledge's sake. Once perhaps, but now, its a means to an end. In fact, every facet of your life is simply a means to end, and you know that.” Ed nodded infinitesimally.   
  
"I know."   
  
"It's not a bad thing to want Edward Elric. Especially when what you want is for the sake of others. But what you need to be wary of is letting that want consume you. You must remember to have an agency beyond your ambitions. You have let your life, your lust for knowledge, the limits of your loyalty, your compassion, be dictated by your ultimate goal. You have at your fingertips the capacity to change the world, it's up to you to decide what kind of man to be when the time arrives.    
  
Ed felt the hat’s presence leave his mind and he waited for the word he knew would follow.   
  
_ “SLYTHERIN!” _   
  
\---   
  
Harry stepped into the Great Hall wiping uselessly at the dried blood that covered his shirt collar. He was lucky Tonks had found him so quickly, there had still been carriages running when he'd gotten off the train. It seemed despite being accosted by Filch at the main gate, he’d managed to make it inside before the sorting was over.   
  
Hermione was frustrated enough as it was with his insistence that Malfoy was a Death Eater, he couldn’t imagine her reaction if his recklessness had landed him back in London. He felt bad for yelling at Tonks, she didn’t deserve his anger. She wasn’t the one he was mad at. Sirius- he’d died while trying to help Ed. His godfather had died to help him, and he’d still betrayed all of them!   
  
“Elric, Edward.” the words rang throughout the hall in professor McGonagall's familiar voice. Harry couldn’t help but whip his head around to watch as a crown of molten gold hair stroud forward from the sea of gathered first years.    
  
Ed’s eyes didn’t waver from where they were fixed, his steps even as he approached the sorting hat. Harry didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he began to feel a slight pinch in his lungs. He let the air out shakily, but every muscle in his body remained tense.   
  
McGonagall settled the tattered hat over Ed’s head. The tension in the room was palpable from every corner. In a moment of chaotic curiosity, Harry flitted his eyes off of Edward’s still form and over to the head of the Slytherin table. Draco sat watching the scene with veiled intensity, doing his best to remain casual despite the obvious tension in his shoulders. Pansy Parkinson across from him, however, looked seconds away from bouncing out of her seat. Crabbe and Goyle unsurprisingly seemed largely unaffected, little more the put off that the feast hadn’t officially begun yet. However, the oddities of the night came in the form of Zabini looking far more invested in the sorting than Harry could remember seeing him in anything, and the girl sitting beside Pansy. She wasn’t eyeing the sorting had with the anticipation of her classmates, but with narrowed eyes like she was trying to figure a complex problem. Harry supposed he didn’t know her well enough to know if this was a deviation from normal behavior, hell he didn't even know her name, it just seems an odd contrast to her fellows.   
  
A minute passed, the hall still holding the oppressive silence with a fierce intensity. It felt like Ed had been up there forever, though that could have just been the atmosphere. Harry was sure Hermione would be able to tell him the longest a single sorting had ever gone on for.   
  
His eyes back on Ed now, Harry saw the boy twitch slightly, reacting to something the hat must have said. It was all the warning he got before the brim ripped open wide and bellowed out, _“SLYTHERIN!”_   
  
Harry stayed frozen where he stood as a cheer erupted among the Slytherin students. A few Hufflepuffs clapped politely but both the Ravenclaws and Gryffindor remained silent. As Harry moved across the Hall towards his friends he could easily pick the fierce twin glares of Ron and Ginny, Hermione beside them looked on in shock. As the clapping died down and the next student took the stool Harry glanced up at the Head Table. Dumbledore’s pleasant smile remained, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the blond. A few seats down, Snape was sending Dumbledore guarded looks that revealed nothing.   
  
“Harry! Can you believe that git!” Ron hissed as he settled himself on the bench beside him. He gave a quiet hum in response as the sorting hat declared the girl who’d gone up after Ed a Ravenclaw.   
  
“Why is he even her- Oh Harry! Why do you have blood all over you!?” Hermione exclaimed loudly.   
  
“Not now ‘Mione, I’ll tell you later.” he hissed under his breath, as her words drew the eyes of a couple of their housemates. Harry again scrubbed at the stains uselessly until Hermione took pity on him and vanished them with a flick of her wand.   
  
“But really,” she said lowering her voice, “Why is he here? I thought the Order was hiding him?”   
  
Ginny hummed, “Yeah, but didn’t he go missing for most of the year right under the Order’s noses? Whatever he was up to then, the order certainly wasn’t protecting him.”   
  
“Yeah, but didn’t- I suppose I just figured that he was back after what happened at the end of last year. He was there, right Harry? That’s what you said.”   
  
Harry nodded, “Yeah, he was in disguise, but it was definitely him.”   
  
“So what?” Ron added with a frown, “he shows up out of the blue and then, just disappears off into the night?”   
  
“I guess?” Ginny said, looking confused.   
  
“But why would Dumbledore let him do that?” Hermione asked.   
  
“Maybe the Order thought Ed was doing a good enough job looking after himself?” Ron suggested.   
  
“Well,” Harry grunted. “That backfired for them.”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“I saw him, on the train. He’s made friends since last we spoke. He’s running with the Slytherin’s now.”   
  
“Do you think-” Hermione paused. “Do you think it’s possible he’s spying for us? And that’s why he had to be in disguise at the Department of Mysteries?”   
  
“Nah,” Ron said, “you heard the hat. Bloke’s a Slytherin.”   
  
“Well, Snape-”   
  
“-Snape was a Slytherin before he was a spy,” Harry interjected. “They wouldn’t have been able to tell what Edward was beforehand. The whole spy thing wouldn’t have worked if he’d ended up in say, Hufflepuff.”   
  
“Then… why?” Ginny asked quietly.   
  
\---   
  
Zabini gave Edward a solid clap on the back as he made to sit down at the table. “Well done Elric!” he exclaimed as if they’d been friends for years. Ed turned and glared at him, noting with a little satisfaction how the boy seemed to cow under his gaze.   
  
“Welcome to the family,” Elizabeth said raising her clearly empty glass, “our shitty dysfunctional family.”   
  
Pansy squealed and gave him a tight side hug. “I’m so glad you’re one of us, Eddie!-”   
  
“-Ed-”   
  
“-I liked you so much when Drakey introduced you, I just knew you had to be one of us! I don’t know what I would have done If you’d ended up somewhere else.”   
  
Lizzy looked to the ceiling as if asking for strength, before reaching out and placing her hand on her friends back, “Pans, the boy’s gonna need to breathe at some point.” Pansy released him almost sheepishly, glancing over her shoulder where Elizabeth was watching with a bemused expression.   
  
“What about you Malfoy?” Zabini asked with a brow raised. “You glad Eddie-”   
  
“-I _will_ hurt you Zabini-”   
  
“-here found his way to the right side of things?”   
  
Draco glared. “Yes then, congratulations I suppose.”   
  
“That’s the spirit!”   
  
Ed was genuinely surprised Zabini didn’t immediately burst into flames under the weight of the glare Draco sent him.   
__   
_“SLYTHERIN!”_ the hat exclaimed loudly, sending another kid to the table. Ed joined the others in clapping as the girl passed, sending her a wide grin. She returned his smile self-consciously and Ed noticed her eyes seemed rather red.   
  
“He older brothers are all Ravenclaws,” Elizabeth muttered to him as the noise began to die down and the next kid made their way up to the stool. “Old family, very proud of their house. I'd imagine she’s quite worried about their reaction.” Ed nodded in understanding. He’d known people took Hogwarts houses seriously, but it seemed a bit excessive that families would actually be disappointed by their children being sorted differently.   
  
The sorting continued for a while longer, each of the children being steadily funneled off into their respective house. In the end, Zabini muttered something about not making up their numbers from last year, and Ed noted that he did seem to be right, in that the other houses had ended up with far more first years then they had.   
  
“I mean, that’s hardly unexpected is it?” Draco said from across the table, looking quite like a young mob boss flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. “With everything that’s been happening parents are probably trying to quash all the cunning and ambition out of their children.”   
  
“A snake is a snake is a snake,” Lizzy muttered in agreement. "If it hisses, then be it a Death Eater."   
  
Ed shot Draco a look at that and watched as the Malfoy heir unconsciously rubbed his forearm. Ed felt something in his stomach tighten as he watched the movement. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew what the motion indicated, Ed just wasn’t sure how to react. Wasn’t sure if he should.   
  
The cheers for Zale, Lawrence died down as he took his place at the Ravenclaw table and Ed watched as the student's attention shifted to the head table where Dumbledore had risen to his feet. “A very good evening to you all,” his voice echoed loudly throughout the hall. “First and foremost, I wish to welcome all of you back to Hogwarts this year, and to our newcomers,” Ed felt a faint shiver down his spine as the old Wizard’s eyes danced over him. “I thank you for joining us.”   
  
Blaise let out a scoff and looked to Draco as if expecting him to exhibit similar disdain. However, the Malfoy heir was back to staring off into space, seemingly unaware of anything happening outside his own thoughts.   
  
“Next, I want you to all join me and welcoming our newest member of staff, Horus Slughorn!”    
  
A smattering of applause echoed throughout the room as Blaise leaned over and whispered, “That’s him, the one I was telling you about. Use to head up Slytherin house back in the day.”   
  
“Professor Slughorn has generously agreed to return to Hogwarts and a take over his former position as Potions Master-” Whatever else Dumbledore might have added here was drowned out by a thunderous roar of confusion.   
  
“Wait, what?” Ed heard Pansy mutter beside him, “Then what about-”   
  
“AND,” Dumbledore’s voice again rang out loudly hushing the students, “Professor Snape will be transferring departments and heading up Defence Against the Dark Arts!” the roar retook the hall.   
  
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Blaise breathed out as Lizzy nodded slowly in agreement.   
  
Ed frowned, It seemed he wasn’t the only one making moves at Hogwarts. Now he just needed to figure out who exactly Severus Snape was moving for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed is a weird one to sort. It's a testament to how well rounded he is as a character that you can see him get sorted into all the houses and reasonably see how one might come to that conclusion about him. In some ways, Ed is the most Gryffindor Gryffindor to even Gryffindor but he's a dirty fighter. He uses tricks and traps to edge out his competition when raw skill and power alone wouldn't do it. I feel this puts Ed much more firmly between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, (Though his loyalty and compassion are definitely strong Hufflepuff traits) and I personally am of the belief that had Trisha not have died we could solidly place Ed as a Ravenclaw. I think, however, once Ed's hunger for information became more about the goal than the journey he became a Slytherin.
> 
> I know I say as much in the chapter, but I wanted to write down a few more words on this because sitting down to figure this out was one of the main reason's this series was created in the first place.
> 
> -Pree 
> 
> (P.S. yes, I am a Slytherin, so I admit bias may exist. However, I think my logic still stands)
> 
> (P.P.S. For shits and giggles, What are your guys's Hogwarts houses? Illvermory too if you know. I'm a Whampus)


	5. Stone Quarters

Of course, the dorms were in the dungeon. In the cold, damp dungeon that seemed almost perfectly designed to make his automail hate him. Ed muttered under his breath as each step he took descending into the belly of the castle made his stumps ache with pain. Blaise took the stone stairs two at a time, his hands buried deep in his pockets quickly overtaking the rest of the group. Pansy and Lizzy were a few steps ahead of Ed, talking quietly under their breaths to each other, the former letting out the occasional giggle. Even Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be in relatively high spirits, each of them having smuggled substantial portions of the evening's fest out in their school robes. The only one who seemed to share Ed’s dower mood was Draco.  
  
The blond trailed behind the group, his eyes vacant, lost deep in his thoughts. As they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Pansy called over her shoulder to wish him goodnight but was met with silence. The girl frowned and tried again, only to be faced again with quiet. Ed took pity on the young heir and jabbed him sharply with his elbow.  
  
“What!?” Draco hissed at him, his eyes narrowed, seemingly unaware of the matching gazes of his friends that were focused on him.  
  
“Goodnight Draco,” Pansy repeated, pulling his attention away from Edward. Her smile was tight. The concerned look of someone doing their best not to seem overly concerned.  
  
Draco blinked. “Right, sorry. Goodnight Pans.” She seemed to relax some, her smile becoming more genuine. Pansy gave a stilted nod Ed’s way and disappeared through the door closely followed by Elizabeth. Malfoy shook his head and ran a hair through his hair. “Elric, you’re with me.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“As Prefect, any overflow ends up in my room. Tradition, though I’m sure I'm the first Prefect in years who's actually had to deal with such an inconvenience.” the last bit was muttered, but Ed we sure he was meant to have heard it.  
  
“Right,” Ed said. He supposed it was a foolish dream to think that he’d have any privacy within these walls. He’d have to approach his automail carefully then, the Slytherins were probably the last people he wanted to know about his limbs. They didn’t seem like they would take the knowledge of his injuries as in stride as Sirius had.  
  
“The dorm’s got Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Garrow, and I in it already, but I’m sure the house elves found somewhere to shove a bed for you.”  
  
Ed narrowed his gaze at Draco’s back sensing a short joke in there somewhere. “I’ve met the others, but who’s Garrow?”  
  
Malfoy made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a grunt. “A prick.”  
  
“A prick?”  
  
Draco stopped for a moment, forcing Ed to halt or otherwise run into the heir's back. Draco turned to face him, his brow furrowed as he looked at Ed intently. The other boy opened and closed his mouth before pursing his lips together tightly, clearly having a hard time wording whatever was on his mind. “Elric, just… just watch your back around him. I’d give him a wide berth if you could, he’s not going to like you much.”  
  
“Why?” Ed asked in confusion, he didn’t know what he could have done to have offended this kid he’d never met.  
  
Draco shifted almost uncomfortably. “Garrow has a lot of opinions. A lot of opinions about certain types of people- certain types of people he’s going to associate you with.” He finished giving Ed a meaningful look.  
  
Ed gave a slow nod. He wasn't sure if he was really getting what Malfoy was saying, but he understood enough to know that whoever this kid was, he wasn’t to be messed with. If Draco Malfoy, a boy who clearly wielded a fair amount of social power among his classmates, was warning Ed off like this… well, Ed got the message.   
  
“Got it.” Ed finally answered, seemingly mollifying Draco who led on.   
  
The Slytherin common room was a sight to behold, almost for a moment making Ed forget Draco’s warning. The iridescent green light bathing the room gave the place an otherworldly quality, and where normally there would be windows to the outside, instead there were thin glass barriers. All that stood between the Slytherins and the massive lake that dominated the front of the castle. Ed let out a low appreciative whistle as he tried to imagine the pains that would have to be undertaken to construct a room like this without the aid of magic.   
  
The Common Room was a good deal warmer than the rest of the dungeons, courtesy of a giant hearth of crackling flames against the far wall. It wasn’t the coziest of places Ed found. in fact, with the stone, flames, and it's subterrene nature it almost reminded him of the Underworld. But, there was no denying it’s grandness.  
  
“Come on, you’re gonna want to sleep as much as you can now,” Draco said, standing at the base of a long stairwell. “The first day back is always the longest.”  
  
Ed trailed behind Malfoy all the up to the dorm where all the others were already present. Draco’s bed, if the labeled case sitting at the foot was anything to judge by, was straight across the room flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Zabini was the next bunk over passed out on top of his covers, nightshirt only half buttoned, the clasps misaligned. Next to Zabini was a lump Edward took to be Garrow, the boy had buried his head under his sheets in a futile attempt to drown out the noise of his roommates.   
  
Seeing all of this, Ed moved to the bed nearest to the door pleased to find his case and belonging had beat him to the room. Not bothering to unpack, Ed simply snagged a pair of night clothes from the top and closed the curtains around his four-poster as he changed. Taking a moment to remove his ring and pocket watch Ed collapsed on his bed and was out like a light.   
  
\---  
  
Draco massaged the crick in his neck wondering to himself if the mattresses they slept on were as old as the school itself.  
  
“Draco darling,” Lizzy muttered as she glared down at her plate like it had personally offended her. “Regardless of how much I love you, if you nail me with your elbow with all this fidgeting of yours, I will push you off the Astronomy Tower.”  
  
Draco grunted in a way he normally wouldn’t dignify if it wasn’t ridiculously early in the morning and dropped his arm back down to his side. Friends, they may be, but he didn’t doubt she would follow through on her threat. She had a strong opinion on intimidation. Lizzy was of the firm belief that if you said you would do something, you did it. It had given her the reputation of someone not to be crossed among the Slytherins, a reputation she upheld by sending at least one person to the hospital wing per quarter. And while Draco was sure the professors knew she was responsible, Lizzy had never been so sloppy as to leave evidence. So of course, Pansy had chosen her to be her best friend  
  
Professor Snape was slowly making his way up the table, schedules in hand and Draco made a point to look the other way when the man made his way to them. Regardless, Draco could feel his eyes sliding along his spine as parchment was set beside his plate.  
  
“And where have you been Elric?” Draco held in a curse as Edward's arrival gave Snape an excuse to pause just behind him.  
  
Draco heard a faint click and wondered if that meant Ed actually used that dented old watch he kept clipped to his waistcoat. “Breakfast doesn’t get over for another half an hour,” Ed responded and Draco could feel the others tense around him.  
  
“Elric, I understand you are new here but that does not excuse ill manners.” Snape’s lofty clipped voice made the hair on the back of Draco’s neck stand up. _Why couldn’t he have just moved on?_ “When you head of house if presenting necessary information, it is customary to observe some sense of punctuality.”  
  
“I-”  
  
“-AND,” Snape said, raising his voice. “Sir is the correct way for you to address your Elders Elric.”  
  
There was a beat of silence, and then, “Sorry Sir, It won’t happen again.”   
  
Draco blinked in surprise, actually raising his gaze from where it had been firmly fixed on the table. Elric looked… sincere? Huh. Draco supposed he didn’t have any reason to assume he would be otherwise it was just… Despite not knowing Ed long, in each of their encounters Draco had noted an almost Gryffindor like bravo in him that seemed to peak out at odd moments. It surprised him Ed would take criticism of that type, criticism where Ed hadn’t actually been wrong, so easily. He shot a quick look to his left to where Lizzy sat, looking for her reaction, but her face remained impassive.  
  
Snape seemed satisfied, if a bit taken aback, and moved further up the table passing out schedules and reprimands. Draco raised an eyebrow at the blond as he settled himself across from him at the table.  
  
“What?” Elric asked adding a scoopful of eggs to his plate. “If I’m gonna be spending a whole year in his class I’m not gonna piss him off now.” Blaise chuckled at Lizzy’s side. “Besides, that was still one of the gentler rebuts I’ve gotten from a teacher over the years.”  
  
“Draky?” Pansy asked as she leaned over, craning to see his schedule. “What classes have you got?” Rather than answer, Draco pushed the paper towards her.  
  
“Is it always so fucking loud in here?” he muttered kneading his forehead as he felt the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Another flare of pain radiated outwards, and Draco lowered his head the cool wood of the table  
  
Draco felt a hand settle on the edge of his shoulder. “You alright mate?”  
  
Malfoy threw the contact off like it burned, spinning to face the offending classmate. “Fuck off and die Zabini,” he growled, pushing himself up to his feet.  
  
Zabini gave an outraged hiss and moved to follow Draco to his feet only to be stopped by Elizabeth’s vice-like grip on his arm. “Leave it.” she hissed, sending a none to subtle look toward the staff table.  
  
“Like hell, I will!” Zabini cried, slamming an open palm on the table.  
  
“Please, Blaise, he didn’t mean-” Pansy tried to cut in but was silenced as Draco turned and stormed away from the table.  
  
“And where do you think you’re going!?” He heard Zabini call out after him, but Draco’s steps refused to falter as they led him out of the Hall and down the seemingly endless Hogwarts corridors.  
  
He could feel his breathing going ragged as he made his way further along the twists and turns of the school. He wasn’t actually sure where his feet were carrying him until he found himself face to face with a blank section of wall in the seventh-floor corridor. His breath caught for a moment and then Draco began to pace back and forth.  
  
 _I need the place where it’s hidden  
  
I need a place safe and alone  
  
I need the place of lost things_  
  
He feared for a moment nothing would happen, but then, slowly a door began to form. Draco let out a shaky breath and let himself inside. The room was just as chaotic and disordered as the last time he’d been there, just after Potter’s little escapades had gone south. He’d been drawn to the place by curiosity, and in it, he had discovered what could potentially be his salvation.  
  
Draco ran his hand down the side of the battered wooden cabinet. This was his only hope, his only chance. If he couldn’t fix the vanishing cabinet before the year was out he was a dead man. Draco wasn’t an idiot, for all his bravo surrounding his assignment he knew he was meant to fail. He knew that the Dark Lord intended to kill him, kill his mother. He knew that. In the beginning, it had been tempting to give in, to give up. Albus Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards of all time and Draco… Draco wasn’t exactly a world class student.  
  
But Bellatrix had pulled him aside one night and made it quite clear that letting things run their course wasn’t something in the cards.  
  
There were fates worse than death she told him.  
  
That if only- _if only_ for the sake of the Dark Lords amusement- Draco would put his all into the assassination of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Because if he didn’t, well, then, Draco would be introduced to some of those alternate possibilities.  
  
He closed the door to the Room of Requirement soundly behind him, drawing a deep breath. His half an hour of breakfast had to be nearly up now. He could… fix things with Zabini later. After their confrontation on the train he had known things would be tense between them he couldn’t go adding fuel to the fire. Zabini liked to present himself as a carefree womanizer but Draco knew the truth. He knew that no one ended up in Slytherin accidentally.  
  
Speaking of…  
  
“There you are!” Draco turned his head to face an approaching Elric. The blonde in question seemed rather frustrated and libel to use his bag as a weapon given provocation. However, rather than hit Draco like he’d been half expecting, the boy instead thrust a piece of parchment in his hand.  
  
Draco blinked down dumbly, not fully aware of how the turn of events had led here. “It’s your schedule dumbass,” Elric grumbled. “Unless you’d managed to memorize it in that half-second glance you gave it when Snape passed them out I imagine you were gonna regret leaving that behind.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“Zabini wanted to burn it.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“Punishment for you being a ‘right awful prick’ as he put it.”  
  
“I see.”  
  
“I hope you don’t mind, but if there was one person out there who did memorize it was Parkinson.”  
  
“Seems like Pansy,” he mumbled dully still looking at the sheet in his hand.  
  
Elric gave a low sigh. “Are you alright? And I’m not asking that so you can bite my head off too, I’m just wondering because when I showed up, it looked like you were gazing longingly at that walls non-existent eyes.”  
  
Draco fixed him with an odd look and Ed only shrugged. “I’m fine.” he finally responded.  
  
“Good!” Ed said clapping his hands together, “Then you can help show me the way to potions. Because it starts in like five minutes and I have no idea where that is.”  
  
“Dungeons,” Draco said shouldering his bag and moving to the nearest staircase. Behind him, he could just make out a muttered _‘Of fucking course it is’_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! and the results of last weeks totally unofficial poll total at...  
> Ravenclaws: 5  
> Gryffindor:2  
> Slytherin:5  
> Hufflepuff:4
> 
> Whampus:2  
> Pukwudgie:2  
> Horned Serpent:5  
> Thunderbird:2
> 
> And on the note of comments, I just want you all to know that I read and appreciate EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. I've been on the road almost constantly since school got out, so it's been hard for me to find time to sit down and answer them but I really really do appreciate your kind words and comments on this story. It's the response that I get from all of you that keeps me wanting to write this!  
> -Pree


	6. There is Another Sky

The boys made it to Slughorn’s just before class started, sliding quickly into seats among the other Slytherins. Zabini shot them both a look of thinly veiled disdain and Ed found himself wondering how a friendship with so much hostility could have persisted for this long. They had just finished settling their cauldrons and scales on their desks when a familiar trio stumbled into the room. Harry seemed to falter for a moment as his eyes landed on Ed among the sea of green.   
  
“Have I got something on my face kid?” he grumbled with narrowed eyes, hoping Harry would get the message. Things could go very wrong very quickly if Harry let slip they knew each other.   
  
“Piss off Potter.” Malfoy scoffed. “Feeling a bit outnumbered?”   
  
Ron opened his mouth to say something but Harry reached back and jerked his friend forward. Hermione shot him a look over her shoulder and he worked to keep his face blank. The three Gryffindors joined a Hufflepuff boy across the room and Ed did his best to ignore the feeling of their eyes ghosting over him. Professor Slughorn rose from behind his desk and cleared his throat preparing to begin his lesson, only to be interrupted as Ron and Harry revealed they didn’t have their supplies.   
  
Zabini was laughing quietly under his breath as the two were handed ancient and distressed potions equipment and Ed found himself intensely gratefully he had found himself an intact set. Slughorn then directed the class to the first in a series of potions littered throughout the room that Ed had missed with the distraction of Harry and his friends.   
  
Hermione threw her hand up before Ed could even register the question and took her awarded praise with a faint smile. Letting his eyes roam over to the next cauldron he was speaking before he even full registered his mouth moving.   
  
“Polyjuice Potion.” and then under his breath, “tastes fucking nasty.”   
  
Slughorn blinked at him as if noticing Ed for the first time. The rest of the class too looked shocked as if they couldn’t comprehend him speaking up. “I- correct, Mr…?   
  
“Elric.”   
  
“Mr. Elric,” Slughorn said with a nod, “is correct. However, I would ask that hands continue to be raised?” Ed nodded a bitting back a remark. While he was glad Hogwarts didn’t seem to have the same disciplinary measures as Izumi, he didn't function well in a question and answer type environment. He needed to be doing something, using his hands, creating.    
  
Draco beside him gave him an odd look, and Ed wondered if the boy had overheard his mumble. It was the only thing he could think of to explain away the calculating film that taken over his gaze.   
  
“And this one?” Slughorn asked pointing to the next potion.   
  
Hermione put her hand up again, though slower this time, looking towards Ed as if to see if he was going to speak. Ed just raised a brow and made a “proceed” motion with his hand. “Amortentia.” She stated.   
  
“And I assume you know it’s purpose?”   
  
“It’s the most powerful love potion in the world!” she said, seemingly regaining her enthusiasm. Slughorn seemed pleased as Hermione began to ramble in detail about the potion, ignoring the quiet groan the Slytherin, Ed had heard called Nott, gave.   
  
“And your name my dear?”   
  
“Hermione Granger, sir.”   
  
“Granger? Like the founder the most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?”   
  
Ed bit back a small laugh at both how red Hermione had gotten and at the very vivid memory of Master Flamel grumbling about the number of parties said society invited him to every year. Flamel had been of the distinct opinion that the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers would be far more “extraordinary” if they spent more time Potioneering than socializing.   
  
“No, I don’t think so, sir. I’m a Muggle-born, you see.”   
  
“No sir, I’m but a simple Mudblood bitch,” Malfoy whispered in a simpering voice to Nott electing a quiet crackle from the other boy.   
  
Ed gave a dark frown and had to restrain himself from whirling around and ruining everything with a poorly thought out punch. His eyes bored a hole in the desk across the room and he waited for the blood to stop rushing in his ears. He hated this. The sitting by, being complicit in the abuse of others. He had to keep reminding himself of the bigger picture. Acting on impulse, as satisfying as it might be in the moment, would do far more harm than good.   
  
The world came back to him as he heard Slughorn say, “-well-earned points to Gryffindor for Ms. Granger and Five to Mr. Elric in Slytherin for his answer!”   
  
Harry was looking at him oddly, and Ed met his gaze with an even look. He couldn’t explain everything, but the two would need to exchange words at some point. This game they were playing could only end poorly. Secrets were only good up to a point and Ed couldn’t risk pushing Harry over the edge. If staying at Grimmauld Place had taught him anything it was that Harry didn’t do well kept in the dark- even when those keeping him there were people he trusted.    
  
“Now then, on to the task at hand-”   
  
“Sir?” Ed winced realizing he hadn’t raised his hand again. Though, in his defense, it had been a very long time since he’d attended an actual school.   
  
“Yes, Mr. Elric?”   
  
“What about that last one there?” He nodded to the last potion bubbling off to the side. Judging by the gleam in Slughorn’s eyes the old wizard had been waiting for someone to comment.   
  
“A good eye my boy!” the man exclaimed jovially meeting his eyes. Ed watched the professor's gaze widen almost alarmingly before dropping back to a calm neutral. “This, class, is called Felix Felicis.” Hermione gasped across the room loudly. “I take it some of you know what this is?” Slughorn nodded at the scattered inclinations of agreement throughout the class. “Good, because this little vial of liquid luck to today’s prize.”    
  
It was like a bolt of lightning ran through the room, every student sat up a little straighter, eyes a little more narrowed.   
  
“Please turn to page ten of your books and begin!”   
  
Ed flipped rapidly through the pages of his textbook scanning down a breakdown of the ingredients and committing them to memory.   
  
__ Powdered Root of Asphodel   
Infusion of Wormwood   
Valerian Sprigs   
Sloth Brain   
Juice of a Sopophorous Bean   
Wormwood   
  
Ed checked them off one by one as he gathered the ingredients from the classroom stores. A quick glance at his watch told him they wouldn’t have enough time to let the potion fully mature, meaning Slughorn wouldn’t risk testing any of them on an actual person. Good. Because Ed had a theory, and it really would be a shame to accidentally poison someone on the first day.   
  
Valerian Sprigs were a natural sedative. Mrs. Flamel’s patch of them in the garden had given him a fair bit of trouble when he’d lived with them, and from them, he’d learned the plant's stems were the strongest part. Following that logic, Ed hoped that increasing the amount in his potion could help make up for the potency he would lose in not letting the potion stew long enough. With a full classroom of students Slughorn couldn’t possibly be monitoring all their recipes all the time, meaning, unless the Springs caused a drastic change, he could potentially get away with fudging the recipe a bit.   
  
Ed waved his wand lighting a fire under his cauldron. Heat accelerated reactions so heating the substance at a higher temperature should help. Theoretically. This was magic he was dealing with, it did have a tendency to ignore science with a frustrating regularity.   
  
Nott let out a loud curse a few seats down as his cauldron sparked violently and began spewing a pale green gas. Ed brought up his collar to cover his mouth, casting a bubble charm over his own potion to protect his progress, as Slughorn rushed over and vanished the contents of his fellow Slytherin’s potion. Using a beaker and the handle of his knife Ed collected the runoff from his additional Valerian Sprigs setting it aside. A sharp bang drew Ed’s gaze across the room where Ron sat rubbing soot out of his eyes with frustration. Hermione spared him a half glance before adding wormwood to her pot, which unlike his, did little more than simmer as it should have.    
  
It was then Ed noticed Harry moving a fervent pace beside them, mashing up his Sopophorous Bean contrary to the instructions demands that they be cut. A little smile broke across his face, seemed he wasn’t the only one fudging the recipe. Ed’s eye contact broke as a cauldron exploded violently behind him, eliciting little screams from his classmates. Ed felt a twinge of pain where a fragment impacted his back but found he was far better off than the Ravenclaw girl whose potion was the culprit. Slughorn gave a little sympathetic tisk before dismissing the girl off to the hospital wing to deal with the way the skin on her hands had begun to bubble.    
  
“A reminder to you all to watch your ratios!” Slughorn said as he vanished the mess, “Potions can very easily become volatile.”   
  
Ed sent a wary glance at his collected Sprig juice as if expecting it to explode violently, no longer sure if he wanted to ‘just see what would happen’. But a quick glance at his watch told him that he only had a few more minutes left to make his potion, and the liquid before him was far lighter than a correctly finished product. Leaning as far away as he could from the potion Ed prepared to pour-   
  
“-Mr. Elric!” Ed froze, sure he was about to get in trouble. “You’re bleeding!”   
  
Ed blinked in confusion. “Sir?”   
  
Slughorn tisked quietly, “Ms. Grace’s little misshapen must be responsible. Can you really not feel it?” Ed blinked slowly shaking his head, freezing as he remembered the tinge of pain in his back. Ed began to turn around as Slughorn reached him, removing the beaker from his fingers. “Here Mr. Elric,” he said jutting out his chin at where Ed could now see a bright red stain growing steadily at his shoulder, just above his automail.   
  
“Oh.” is all he could say, “I see.”   
  
Slughorn signed, “out with you Mr. Elric, we can’t risk blood contaminating the area. I think Madam Pomfrey should check to see if any of Ms. Grace’s potion managed to make it into the cut.”   
  
“Uh, Yes Sir,” Ed said as Slughorn shuffled him out of the room quickly, bitting back the disappointment that he wouldn't be able to complete his experiment.   
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll have your housemates bring along your stuff later.”   
  
“I wasn’t- thank you, Sir,”   
  
Slughorn gave him a prolonged level examination before frowning ever so slightly. “Could you really not feel it, Mr. Elric?”   
  
Ed shook his head. “No Sir,” his mouth turned down. “I have nerve damage in that shoulder, ‘don’t really feel much of anything unless I get hit really hard.”   
  
Slughorn nodded, “Of course. Just see you come to me before the 15th.”   
  
“I-? Yes Sir.” Ed said in confusion as Slughorn dismissed him to be on his way. It was only after the door closed behind the professor that Ed recognized that he hadn’t the faintest idea of how to actually get to the Hospital Wing.”   
  
“Well shit.” He muttered as look out at the long hallway before and behind him   
  
The cold crawl of magic swept over his spine, the only warning before, “Language of that sort does not befit the noble house of Slytherin.” Came a low rough voice, the sounds sharp like the speaker hadn’t used his words in a long time. The ghost of Slytherin was a haggard man with a sharp jaw and fine clothing who would look right at home among the princes and kings of fairy tales if not for the lengths of chain draped heavily across his form.   
  
“I hate to break it to you, but I am far from the only-”   
  
“-I know.”   
  
The ghost stared at Ed unblinking until Ed began to feel as if he was going to crawl out of his skin. “Is there something you needed?” he asked, a glance at his shoulder told him the stain had about doubled and he likely would have to scrub dried blood from his automail joints later.   
  
“You are… otherwise distracted.” Ed’s eyes widened, so the ghost had actually wanted to speak with him, it wasn’t just coincidence!   
  
“A bit,” Ed admitted. “But I can’t feel it, so I’m not in much of a rush.” He said, eager to get whatever this was done and over with.   
  
The ghost shook his head, “Another time.” he stated with resolve and moved to float back through the wall from which he’d come.   
  
“Wait!” Ed exclaimed, “While I have you, how do I get to the hospital wing?”   
  
The ghost pointed away from the classroom to a set of stairs tucked away behind a suit of armor. “Take those up two flights, you’ll find Madam Pomfrey’s just past the Great Hall.” And then he was gone before Ed even had a chance to say thank you.   
  
Ed frowned as he made his way up the stone steps. He couldn’t conceive of any reason a ghost might want to speak with him. He hadn’t done anything, well perhaps beyond cursing, that he could think of, that the house ghost would want to chide him for. It had only been one- Ed stopped, frozen between one step and the next. Could this be about Hoenheim?   
  
Ed frowned, that answer becoming more plausible the more he thought about it. So far, the only people he’d interacted with who’d actually known his father had been dead or should have been. The painting in Malfoy Manor, Flamel, The Dwarf- why couldn’t a ghost have known him? He’d have to ask around a bit more, look into who the ghost had been when he’d been alive and if there was any connection to his father. It was still only a vague connection at best, but it made more sense to him then a ghost suddenly taking interest in him out of the blue.   
  
In the meantime, however-   
  
“Another one!” Ed jumped backward as an irate older woman appeared at his side and took hold of his arm. Ed froze and so did the woman as her fingers closed around the metal where his arm should have been. “What-?” Ed looked at her with wide eyes, unable to force a sound out. He couldn’t believe it had happened again. Her wide eyes narrowed as she dragged him across the ward passed an assortment of injured students to an empty bed on the far side of the room. “Sit,” she ordered as she lightly pushed him onto the bunk.   
  
“Ma’am-”   
  
“Hush now!” she said flicking her wand and sectioning off his bed with pale green curtains. _“Tacere Clypeus!”_ she turned back to face him, her eyes softening, “Now then, we don’t have to worry about any evesdroppers or busybodies looking into business that isn’t their own.”   
  
Ed froze, fumbling for an explanation, an excuse to give. Voldemort was a decent one but Ed was a little too young for it to be believable. Alchemy was much more solid. He was the expert here, she would have to take his word for it and there was a precedent, seeing as that wasn’t really a lie at all. The automail… he could explain away as Flamel’s. His old Master was eccentric enough, and most importantly- not around to contradict him. But as Ed opened his mouth to speak he was cut off.   
  
“Wait. Young man, I have been at this job for quite a long time now, I know full well when I’m about to be lied to.”   
  
“I Wasn't-”   
  
“You were,” she said silencing him. Madam Pomfrey gave a low sigh. “I may be employed by the school but I am always, first and foremost, a healer. Which means, whatever you say here unless it has the potential to harm the student body as a whole, will never leave this room.” Ed moved to speak again but she held up her hand to silence him. “That being said, while I would like you to tell me the full truth, I will be satisfied with a complete rundown of your injuries. Past and current Mr. Elric.”   
  
Ed frowned. “You know my name?”   
  
She sighed, “Mr. Elric, every student finds their way to me at one point or other. You’d be hard pressed to find another sixth year I don’t know, much less another golden-eyed Slytherin.”   
  
She stared at him with a raised brow until Ed realized she was waiting for him to speak. “Um, it’s really much easier if I just show you,” he said running his fingers along the hem of his stained shirt.   
  
“Well then,” she said with a wave of her hand, “I don’t bite.” Then, for whatever reason, the woman winced and sent Ed an apologetic glance.   
  
Crossing his arms across his waist, Ed pulled his button-down over his head, feeling slight resistance on both his back and arm where drying blood glued the clothing to his skin. It was clear the woman did her best to bite back her small gasp as he laid the discarded item at his side. To her credit, the nurse showed far more restraint than most, looking to Ed for his permission before leaning in to inspect Winry’s handiwork.   
  
“Am I wrong in thinking this is entirely mechanical?” Ed shook his head. “Interesting. Makes sense, of course, enchantment wear off especially with constant use. But what do you use as a power source? Muggle electricity doesn’t function on Hogwarts grounds there’s too much magic interference.”   
  
“It uses my body,” Ed said, straining to think back to Winry’s lectures. He did try and listen, really, but so much of it went over his head.  “The arms mechanics are connected directly to my nerves so It uses the electricity my brain would use to move my arm if it was real.”   
  
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.   
  
Ed hesitates, “Sometimes.” he answered truthfully. “The cold and rain make my stumps ache, and if I hit the port I can feel it. It’s a deeper pain though, more like the feeling of something pressing in on a bruise.”   
  
Somewhere in the middle of his explanation, her hands had frozen. “Stumps? As in, more than one?”   
  
Ed winced, he hadn’t meant to let that slip out, pure habit was the only thing he could think to blame it on. “Yeah, my left leg too. Knee down.”   
  
She looked again to him for permission and rolled up his pant leg to see. “Can I ask why you didn’t regrow them?”   
  
Ed blinked. The question throwing him for a loop for a moment. He knew you could regrow limbs, knew that it was something that wizards could do. But it was something that only made sense in his mind objectively, he couldn’t seem to be able to apply that logic to himself. Could he- could he regrow his limbs?   
  
No.   
  
It wasn’t right. This was his punishment. If Al wasn’t able to take the easy way out, if Izumi wasn’t, then he couldn’t either.   
  
“Alchemy- Alchemy can be volatile sometimes. It always demands a price. And sometimes, sometimes when things go wrong you don’t get much of a say in what that price is.”   
  
She nodded slowly, rolling his pant leg back down. “Well, I can tell you this much with certainty Mr. Elric, Alchemy isn’t the only thing in my experience that follows such a policy."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since Flamel is looking to be in the next "Fantastic Beasts" It appears this story has managed to become more of an AU than it already was.
> 
> It's funny, when I originally started planning to do this crossover the story was TOTALLY different. Mainly, because it was supposed to be set in the "Fantastic Beasts" era and be more of "The Ed & Newt Show" than, well, this. I still think it would have been fun to write, but with only the first movie out I wasn't confident with the amount of cannon we were given for both characterization and timeline reasons. Who knows? Maybe I'll write a one-shot or something for fun.


	7. Myrtle's Moaning

Ed sat back on the bed, bracing himself with his arms as Madam Pomfrey turned her attention from his automail to his shoulder, whipping away the blood as she carefully moved around the port. The cut itself wasn’t particularly large, just deep, and bleeding. After she ensured that Grace’s potion hadn’t made it into the injury, she sealed the wound shut with her wand and moved to view the smaller one on his back.   
  
Ed swept his hair over his shoulder to give her easier access to his back and dropped his chin forward, feeling a slight pull on his right side from the newly bonded skin. She sucked in a harsh breath as she rounded the back of the bed, and Ed fought the urge to fumble for the slash to see what about it had elicited such a response.   
  
“What? What? What’s wrong?!” he asked craning his neck to see, half expecting to see his skin bubbling like the Ravenclaw girl's had. She met his eyes over his shoulder, inclining her head in a way that clearly asked for permission to touch. Ed nods his head, he didn’t know what she was looking at. And then suddenly, he did.   
  
He felt like an idiot the moment her fingers brushed over the half a square foot of raised scar tissue that sat on his lower abdomen. The scar from the beam that skewered him had long just become part of the landscape, no different from the rough metal bolts embedded in his flesh. The mess that had been made of his side hardly even registered anymore. The doctors in North City had won his business because they were discreet, not because they were any more skilled than necessary. There had been the added bonus that they wouldn't go kicking up a fuss about him checking himself out early, and their “winning” personalities had kept him from feeling overly guilty about leading the military directly to their front door.   
  
“Oh, that,” Ed said after the silence stretched out a little too long.   
  
“Oh that?” her words held a warning tone and Ed couldn’t help but flinch a little. A poor choice of words of his part it seemed. “Oh, that? And what is that exactly Mr. Elric?”   
  
“A scar?” his words were sheepish and he cowered under her bright gaze.   
  
“Mr. Elric,” she started as her fingers slid around his side, feeling the extent of the damage, “do you want to try that again?”   
  
He sighed, “It was an accident, just a little over a year ago. Had to think quick to keep from bleeding out. Then, the doctors, after, well- they kept me from dying. Couldn’t really have asked for more under the circumstance. Ripped it back open before it healed up, trying to get away-” Ed frowned, his eyes purposely blank and looking away from her. “It was never going to be a pretty scar.”   
  
She was silent for a moment, not in shock, just thinking. Ed decided he liked that about her, her professionalism was refreshing. No mincing words, no platitudes, just the blunt truth. Well, of course, not the full truth. But he almost wanted to.   
  
“You said,” she frowned, “‘doctors’ not ‘healers’.” Ed bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t realized he’d made a mistake, but clearly… “Did you go to a Muggle Physician for this Mr. Elric?”   
  
“I-” he frowned and nodded.   
  
“Why?”   
  
“It was the only option at the time, wasn’t anyone else to go to.”   
  
She nodded, “You were under the tutelage of Nicholas Flamel before you arrived at Hogwarts weren’t you?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“I- correct me if I’m wrong Mr. Elric- I read, after his death, that he’d been located in Germany?”   
  
“That’s right,” Ed answered, wondering what she was getting at.   
  
“I know that the German Ministry has taken its stance on… issues pertaining to, you.” Ed gave a slow nod, trying to think what Flamel had mentioned in terms of Alchemical regulations. “Things being as they are, tensions I mean, with the return of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, I know that we- our Ministry might not be the most welcoming at the moment.”    
  
He hadn’t heard about that, but he supposed it made sense. Voldemort had tried to gain immortality through Alchemic means before, he could see paranoid government officials creating sanctions in an attempt to curtail interested parties. He wondered if that meant they’d be watching him, watching him for more than every day ambitious reasons.   
  
“I don’t want you to think that you have to do this alone,” she gave him soft smile. “Hogwarts has had both students and teachers in your situation before, come see me for help when it’s time.”   
  
“I- thanks.”   
  
She smiled at him again and drew a deep breath. “Now then, now that we’ve had that conversation, let’s see what we can do about those limbs of yours.”   
  
“My automail?” Ed asked in surprise, wondering what the woman could be talking about.   
  
“Automail, is that what it’s called then? And yes, you mentioned you have a hard time with temperature change?”   
  
“Mostly the cold, heat only hurts when it’s really hot. And then, that’s only because the metal is conductive.”   
  
She nodded, “If anything that makes things easier. While you were with Master Flamel, did you ever work with vessels?”   
  
“No, I don’t think so. What are those?”   
  
“One moment Mr. Elric,” she said ducking out through the curtain. He could hear her footsteps carry her away and then the faint sounds of someone rustling through a drawer. “Here we go,” she mumbled as she returned carrying a pair of black gloves. “Slide one of these on.”   
  
Ed did as he was told, taking the left glove from her and sliding it on. As he did so, Madam Pomfrey watched with thinly veiled fascination at the mechanics of his arm. Ed almost gasped as the glove covered his hand completely. The glove was far warmer than it had any right to be, it almost felt like he was warming his fingers above the flames of a bonfire.   
  
“It’s charmed?”   
  
She nodded. “That’s just something small, but it’s the general idea of what I want to do with you. This isn’t a real vessel, but it’s the same general idea. The point of a vessel is to store magical energy for later, no one’s been able to store pure energy yet outside of the creation of the Philosophers Stone, but singular spells? We can do that. At least, for a time. I want to see if I can make a band or something of the like for your limbs imbued with Focillo-”   
  
“-The warming spell?”   
  
“Correct. You should be able to activate them as you need them rather than having to keep the heat going until it runs out like you would with a traditional charm.”   
  
“You’ve never tried this before have you?”   
  
“No,” she said, her eyes serious. “But that’s no reason not to try.”   
  
Ed grinned, it seemed he wasn’t the only one that felt like playing mad scientist today.   
  
  
\---   
  
Elric didn’t come back to class after Slughorn sent him off to the Hospital Wing, meaning that Malfoy had to watch Potter win the stupid contest. The only consolation he received was that Granger seemed about ready to scream, her already wild hair puffed around her head to an unnatural degree, as she watched her friend accept the golden potion from the professor.   
  
Draco’s potion had been solid in the beginning, but when Nott's had met a nasty end, so had his. The hazy green mist had mixed with his, and Draco had spent the rest of class fighting a losing battle to keep the mess from exploding. Slughorn hadn’t even said anything when he’d vanished it away as he passed.   
  
He knew his anger was irrational, that indulging in Slughorn’s little parties would draw his attention away from the task at hand. But every time the man ignored him, brushed him off, or turned his attention to one of his other classmates it was like a blow to the chest. A reminder of everything he had to lose, and how much his father’s failures had already cost them. People were going to notice, people were already noticing the change. One’s like Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and hell, even Elric had an idea of what was happening behind the curtain. They’re fates, like his, were inevitably tied to Voldemort as well. They- he didn’t have the luxury of someone like Zabini, the ability to continue to act of their own independent interest. They were the next generation, the next ones who’d wear the Death Eater masks. It was something that had excited him as a child, an opportunity for glory and power over others. But now, as it drew nearer, all he could see was a gaping pit ready to swallow him whole.   
  
He spent the rest of the day in a haze, like a ghost floating above his body, watching what he was doing but never really in the moment. He was startled back to himself a couple of times by Pansy, a nudge of a shoulder here, a soft elbow to the ribs there. Elizabeth was eyeing him with barely concealed suspicion like she thought he was hiding something. Zabini, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind the silence, as he was actively pretending Draco didn’t even exist.    
  
Millicent Bulstrode showed up some point around forth to speak to one of the girls, which one Draco didn’t know. Both Pansy and Lizzy seemed to have a never-ending supply of acquaintances stopping by to share gossip, though the messenger of said gossip did vary some depending on the intended recipient. While Pansy’s “friends” were almost entirely limited to other Slytherin’s a high standing, Lizzy seemed to favor younger students. First and Second years, often of other houses who’d approach the group timidly and then bolt the moment they had said their piece. She seemed to find the antics amusing, Draco found it irritating.   
  
Disruptions from the routine were distractions, drawing his attention away from his planning. So when Millicent Bulstrode showed up practically squealing about some random fucking Gryffindor in the fifth year, crashing into his shoulder uncaringly as she went, Draco damn near cursed her. Only Pansy’s shrill call of “Draco!” broke him out of his head, his wand unconsciously half raised. Shoving the wooden stick back in his pocket he stormed off, calling over his shoulder for the other’s to inform their teachers that he’d come down with a migraine.   
  
Seeing a bathroom he ducked in, paying no mind to the sign on the door. The passing period was almost over anyhow, there shouldn’t be anyone to see him. Grasping the edge of the sink in a death grip, Malfoy let out a ragged breath. The air in his lungs seemed to fight him, and no sooner had he finally managed to expel it he found he couldn’t seem to draw any in. Draco clawed at the green school tie around his throat with building panic. In the mirror he could see tears building in his reflection's eyes, it made him want to smash it. He felt sick, he couldn’t do this.   
  
He couldn’t do this.   
  
He couldn’t do this.   
  
But what is this?   
  
Assassinate Dumbledore or break down crying in some random bathroom where anyone could see?   
  
The mantra repeated over and over in his head until he found himself slumped against the cold tile of the wall. He needed to do this. Needed to kill Dumbledore. It was the only way he and his mother made it out alive. Lucius… for all he knew it was too late for his father. Which meant this couldn’t happen again. Draco just needed to get over this thing, whatever it was. This doubt, the panic, the feeling that maybe he didn’t want to go through with this. Those feelings had no place in the head of Draco Malfoy.   
  
“What are you crying about?”    
  
Draco whipped his head up, almost frantic, looking around for who’d seen. “Who’s there!” he called. “Who said that?!”   
  
Then came a deep long-suffering sigh, and from the corner of his eye, he saw a pale flicker. “No need to shout there, it’s only little old me. I just came to see what’s wrong,” the ghost said with a self-important nod. “You were making an awful lot of noise.”   
  
“Who?- Who are you?”   
  
“Me?” She said, almost as if shocked he didn’t already know. “I’m Myrtle, and you’re in my bathroom.”   
  
“Your bathroom?” Draco winced as his voice cracked. “How can this be your bathroom?”   
  
“Well I did die here,” she said, sounding rather put-upon as she settled beside him. Myrtle was younger than him by a few years a least, a second or third year if he had to guess. “But I suppose you’re welcome to share it, no one else ever comes here. Not for years. And then, they really only used it to brew that foul potion.”   
  
“Potion? What potion?”   
  
“Oh, I don’t remember what it was called. But whatever it was, it was meant to,” she waved her hands vaguely in front of her face. “You know, turn you into someone else. A least, that’s what the girl said it was supposed to do.” Myrtle cackled wildly. “Of course, she got it all wrong and it ended up rather nastily for her.”   
  
“For who?” Draco asked eagerly, having a very good idea of what potion the young ghost was talking about. “Who was it?”   
  
She leaned away from him, her bottom lip jutted out somewhat. “Well, I can’t be expected to remember everything! It was years ago anyhow.” Malfoy couldn’t help the disappointment that crossed his face. “You could always ask Harry though.”   
  
Draco froze. “Harry? Harry Potter?”   
  
She nodded excitedly. “Yep! He used the potion too, he and the other boy.” her smile faded a little then, “He hasn’t come to see me in a while. I thought he would be my friend.”   
  
Draco let out a dry scoff, “You wouldn’t want to be friends with him anyhow. He’s an idiot.”   
  
Myrtle frowned, “Perhaps, but he is very brave.” Draco’s scowl deepened, the last thing he needed to hear about was how charming, and funny, and handsome Harry fucking Potter was. “He’s not as pretty as you though.”   
  
Draco blinked. “What?”   
  
She nodded as if reaffirming her claim. “And you have,” she paused, considering her words. “Emotional vulnerability.” she finally decided on. “Harry’s always so angry all the time. Shouting, and making a fuss.” she shook her head. “The other ghost’s don’t come around here often with gossip, but I do listen!” she smiled at him. “I listen to the pipes!”   
  
“The pipes?” Draco asked, trying very hard not to think about the other things Myrtle would have heard.   
  
“Yep!”   
  
“Oh. how nice.”   
  
Draco ran a hand over his faces, whipping away the evidence of his tears with his sleeve. It wouldn’t do for someone else to see. His bag was a few feet away from him and his back ached as he pushed himself upright off the hard ground and made his way to retrieve it. His movements felt slow and lethargic, and the thought of going anywhere filled him with a sense of bone-deep exhaustion.   
  
“Are you leaving already?” Myrtle hovered by the door looking miserable.   
  
“I’ve gotta get going,” Draco said awkwardly shifting in place.   
  
“Oh.” she paused. “You will come back and see me again though won’t you?”   
  
Draco hesitate. “Yeah Myrtle, of course, I will.” he settled on, though it sounded lame even to him.   
  
“Oh... alright then.” she floated off to the side allowing Draco to pass. He hurried out of the bathroom post haste, trying to pretend that he hadn’t seen the tears prickling in the corners of her eyes.   
  
He moved quickly through the halls, keeping his head down to dissuade any attempts for conversation. Student’s were milling about the corridors meaning he’d been in there for the entire period, and while he wanted to say that he couldn't have possibly lost track of time that bad, the soreness in his legs agreed. He supposed that meant Myrtle had been telling the truth about how low trafficked the bathroom was.   
  
He probably should have been getting to class, but his head still felt like it’d been struck by an anvil and the only thing he could imagine himself doing now was curling up in his dorm room. As he rounded the corner that led to the shortcut to the Slytherin dorms, a black figure entered the corner of his vision.   
  
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, a word please.” Draco leveled a glare at Snape and kept walking. It wasn’t like the former potion’s master would dock him house points. It would be counter to any of Snape’s past actions, and without anyone to witness the slight it couldn’t even be used as a “teaching moment”. Draco was sure he would pay for it later somehow, but for now, his future punishment was the furthest thing from his mind.   
_   
_ _“Sanguinis Pura,”_ Draco muttered, the door to the common room door sweeping open to welcome him. The room was nearly empty much to Draco’s relief. However, he found himself much less relieved to see the room’s single occupant.   
  
“Elric,” Draco said, freezing at the entrance.   
  
“Malfoy?” Elric sat up from where he had been laying across one of the common rooms many couches, his book still clutched in hand.   
  
“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few steps forward. Edward raised a brow and gestured around the room as if to say, I live here too asshole. “You still have class don’t you?”   
  
“Oh, right. Sorry, mister Prefect sir. I promise I’m not cutting class sir, honest!” he said mockingly as he fished for a white piece of parchment of the table beside him. “Doctor’s note,” he said triumphantly. “Waiting it out to make sure Grace’s potion isn’t going to make me explode or anything. She seemed to think it would be somewhat less traumatizing to the student body if I did that in my own room verse a packed class.”   
  
“Then why on earth are you in the common area then?” he asked, matching Elric’s sarcasm with his own. “This furniture is nearly as old as the school itself, you’ll ruin it with your blood stains.”   
  
“Oh you know me, always one for a spectacle.” he sighed, giving Draco a dry look. “So now that we’ve established I’m out of class because I’m potentially dying, what on earth are you doing here?”   
  
“A migraine,” Draco said shortly. As soon as the words left his mouth all of the joking energy fled the room.   
  
“Right. Well then,” Edward said, backing around the corner of the couch. “Do you at least have my stuff? Slughorn said he’d send it along with one of you.”   
  
“Uh, no. I think Zabini got it.”   
  
“Right, looks like I’ll be fishing it out of the lake latter then.”   
  
The two boy continued to stare at each other in silence. Elric didn’t believe him, that much was obvious, but Draco didn’t think he’d actually say something. He wanted to. He could see that much. He could almost see the struggle on his face as Edward held back his questions.    
  
That was another thing about Elric, he was so like them sometimes. On the train, during meals, but then sometimes, he would get this look in his eye like he didn’t know what to do. He wondered if it had been different with the Flamel’s. The Flamel’s had guaranteed prestige, they could do something no one else in the world could, they didn’t need to work for their image. Perhaps things were different for them, perhaps Elric hadn’t been taught the same things. That caring was a weakness. Looking at someone like that, like you wanted to help was just asking to be taken advantage of. The world was not kind, and as such, kindness would get you nowhere power couldn’t get you with more security.   
  
“Right then,” Draco muttered and passed Elric on his way up to their room, Edward’s eyes still following him.    
  
Draco collapsed into his four-poster, unconsciousness soon overtaking him. As sleep pulled him down deeper, his mind swam with dreams of cabinets, polyjuice potion, and the shadow of death hanging overhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to edit in a hurry this week, If you guys spot any issues let me know and I'll go fix it!


	8. Garrow

Zabini didn’t end up throwing Edward’s stuff in the lake. No, instead, the little bastard managed to find a semi-sentient tree to discard them by. So rather than being warm inside, catching up on the work he’d missed for classes he hadn’t attended, Edward Elric was outside in the September chill contemplating dendro homicide. Dendrocide?    
  
Alchemy, while still easily explained away seeing as he was Nicholas Flamel’s apprentice, was still something he wanted to keep on the down low. In general, because he wasn’t sure he wanted the teachers, and a certain headmaster in particular, to know exactly how powerful he really was. So, for the time being, at least, Alchemy was a no go.    
  
Immobilizing the tree through magic was his next thought, however, the old willow had a shit ton of angry murderous branches and Ed was worried that by the time he incapacitated the last one, the enchantment on the first would wear off. Plus, Ed wasn’t stupid enough to think the tree was just going to sit there and take it, and he would rather make it at least one full day at Hogwarts before becoming a grease spot.   
  
“Um?” A timid voice spoke up behind him. “Are those your things?”   
  
“Yup,” Ed said, popping the P in his response with exasperation.   
  
“Oh, Slytherin’s then?” Ed nodded, “Yeah, they did that to me a lot my first year. And second… and third… and well, frankly they’d probably still do it if they got ahold of my stuff. They can be a nasty bunch-” Ed turned around with a sigh, watched with thinly veiled amusement as the eyes of the large boy behind him widened to the size of dinner plates upon seeing the green of his robes.   
  
“They really can,” Ed said with a raised brow as the boy took a couple steps back.   
  
“I- really, I didn’t mean!” the boy swallowed hard and pulled out his wand, giving Ed his best defiant look. “I- I’ll jinx you! I will! You try anything I’ll knock you flat on your back!” Something about that action stirred something in him and Ed suddenly recognized the boy in front of him. It was Harry’s friend, the one he’d saved.   
  
Ed reached a hand up to scrub at his face before raising both of them non threateningly, showing the boy his empty palms. “I promise to keep that in mind for later.” Ed replied with a laugh, “But really kid, I just want my shit back.”   
  
The boy frowned, “Why would your own housemate’s toss your things to the Whomping Willow? That doesn’t make sense.”   
  
“Fuck if I know,” Ed said, dropping his hands in exasperation. “It’s either hazing, or Zabini has a crush on me.”   
  
The boy brought his wand down to, though Ed hadn’t failed to notice that after the kid’s initial threat, the wand hadn't exactly remained pointed front and center. He gave Ed a once over before frowning and saying in complete seriousness. “It’s probably hazing, I don’t think you're his type.” Ed couldn’t help the snicker that escaped his lips at the thought of how indignant Zabini would be if he would have heard that.   
  
“So kid,” he said, still struggling to hold back light giggles, “If you’ve been getting your stuff chucked back here for years, how come there isn’t a slowly growing mountain of neglected school supplies at the base?”   
  
“Oh,” the kid blushed a bit. “Professor Sprout showed me how to get past the branches after I concussed myself... I was trying to get my cauldron so I wouldn’t be late for potions.”   
  
“Right, it was Snape before this year wasn’t it? I’ve heard he’s not the-” Ed thought back over every spiteful comment Sirius Black had ever spewed about the man before finishing lamely with, “-nicest?”   
  
The boy looked at him oddly, before his eyes widened doing the dinner plate thing all over again. His enlarged gaze moving up and down, briefly freezing on his eyes before zipping away, the boy blushing slightly. “You’re Edward Elric!”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“No- sorry, it’s just I should have recognized you. Hogwarts doesn’t really get transfer students.”   
  
“Ah, right. Dumbledore mentioned that I think.”   
  
The boy kept staring at him, clearly unsure and uncomfortable with the situation until Ed took pity on him and redirected the kid to the task at hand. “So… about getting my stuff back?”   
  
The boy perked up immediately, “Oh! Right! Well really it’s quite interesting, because Whomping Willows, they sorta mimic human biology, right?” Ed watched as the boy’s eyes scanned through the long grass around them, clearly searching for something. “Like, the branches are its arms. And if you break one, by say, crashing a flying car into them-”   
  
“-Wait what?-”   
  
“-they have to be set like human limbs do! Or, rather, how Muggle’s do, they don’t make Skele-Gro for trees. But! That also means that like the human body, the Willows have pressure points!” The boy emerged from the grass triumphantly, holding a fist-sized stone in his hand. “There's, um, a spell for this too. I just- can’t remember it at the moment-” The boy cocked his arm back and hurled the stone at the tree. He and Ed watched with bated breath as the stone sailed through the air and then collided with the tree's trunk harmlessly. “Shit.”   
  
“Maybe I should give it a try?” Ed asked, side-eyeing the embarrassed teen.   
  
“Right, good plan.”   
  
“So where am I aiming at?” Ed asked as he tossed a stone he’d found lightly in his hand.   
  
“Uh- you see that knot at the bottom there?” Ed nodded, “middle of that freezes the tree.”   
  
“Gotcha.” With a grin Ed flung his stone forward right on target, only to watch as the world’s angriest tree swatted it away. “Fuck.”   
  
“Yeah,” the boy said rubbing that back of his head awkwardly. “It, uh, can take a few tries.”   
  
A few tries it turns out, was damn near the understatement of the century the way Ed figured it. The tree absolutely refused to let any of the stones near the knot, meaning Ed, and the boy whose name he learned was Neville, rather quickly had to abandon their just chucking stones approach to try something more a bit more creative. Creative being, a frantic and chaotic game of chicken that finally ended after a complicated roll that sent Ed skidding through the dirt. He wasn’t quite sure how he pulled off, only that somewhere along the line his knee struck the knot, and Ed and Neville were home free.   
  
Ed let out a whoop of excitement, throwing up his arms and letting them hit the ground behind him bonelessly. Neville’s lips twitched like he was trying to hold in a grin, and Ed gave him an easy smile. The kid looked so much like his little brother at that moment that it fucking hurt. It was the same expression Al pulled when they’d gotten away with something as kids. Nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop but still too upped on adrenaline to fight back his beaming smile entirely.    
  
Ed slung his bag over his shoulder, picking a few odd leaves and twigs from his hair. Looming over the grounds like a mountain, the castle’s windows glowed with candlelight. A quick glance at his watch told him that they’d missed dinner and Ed apologized to Neville, his glee dimming some.   
  
But the boy only shook his head. “Oh, that’s fine. Really, Edward. My gran made me pack snacks, I’ll be fine.”   
  
“You sure?” Ed asked, searching in his mind for away he could smuggle the kid some dinner. It wouldn’t be as big a deal for him, he may eat for two, but he’d gone without eating plenty of times while traveling with Al. In the beginning, there had been little more in the world he hated than making them stop so Ed could eat or sleep. He hated to give his brother any physical reminders of what he’d done to him.   
  
“Yeah, really. And I mean, just look at me,” Neville said sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like missing a meal or two would do me any harm.”   
  
Ed frowned, feeling an unexpected tightness in his chest. “Neville…”   
  
“It’s fine, really.”   
  
“It’s not,” Ed said sharply, Neville looked like he wanted to cut in but Ed stopped him with a raised hand. “Fighter’s need to keep up their strength.”   
  
“I- 'm not a-”   
  
“You fought at the Department of Mysteries last year didn’t you?”   
  
“I suppose so, but-”   
  
“But nothing. Things are… things are gonna get worse before they can get better, and, when things get bad, they’re gonna need fighters like you to keep others safe.” Neville just stared at him, his face so open and vulnerable Ed had to look away. “Come on, we best get going. Don’t want Filch to catch us out after bed check on the first day.”   
  
\---   
  
There were a few Slytherin’s lurking around the common room when he got back. His book, much to Ed’s delight, remained untouched on the table in front of the fire, his seat, however, was taken. The boy was a good half a head taller than Ed stretched out like he was, with violently red hair that triggered a memory of Knockturn Alley, of spying on the trio, on Draco.    
  
Ed moved past him quietly as he could, reaching to retrieve his book. Even still, it seemed he hadn’t been silent enough, and dark brown eyes met his own. The boy’s face went through a series of emotions in such rapid sequence Ed was almost sure he’d imagined them. Confusion, then fear, anger, and then finally, rage. Ed reeled back slightly at the pure hatred beaming back at him as the boy jerked upright with a snarl.   
  
“Get the fuck out of my face _mutt!”_   
  
A few kids looked over with wary expressions, several of them moving towards their respective dorms and away from the confrontation. Ed backed off, clutching his book tightly in his hand. He scanned the boy up and down warily. If it came to blows Ed was sure he could take him, but if magic got involved… Olivia had made him a strong dueler, but Ed didn’t want to try his luck here, especially with someone eyeing him with such vitriol.   
  
“He-ey Garrow, ease up would you?” Zabini’s voice echoed through the room as he tossed an arm over the redhead’s shoulder. Zabini motioned towards the stairs with his head, Ed nodded and edged around the couch.   
  
“Get the fuck off me Zabini!” Garrow growled, shoving the boy away harshly. Zabini backed off with his hands in the air, moving back towards the stairs and motioning with his eyes for Ed to follow.   
  
Ed did, watching out of the corner of his eye as Garrow stormed across the common room and out the entrance, tossing the door open with such force Ed thought for sure it would break against the wall. “Fuck’n hell, he’s a piece of work,” Zabini muttered. When they reached the stairs to their dorm two figures were waiting in the shadows a couple steps up.   
  
Draco was leaning against the wall inspecting his fingernails as if completely unbothered by the almost fight that had just occurred mere feet away from him. The other was a girl, a first-year Ed vaguely recognized as the one he’d smiled at during the opening feast, the one whose siblings were all in Ravenclaw.   
  
“Alright,” Draco said addressing her with a dismissive wave. “Shows over, run on back to Lizzy.” The girl nodded wide-eyed and stumbled her way down the stairs.   
  
“What was that?” Ed asked, watching the girl go.   
  
“Nothing to worry about,” Draco muttered, already turning around. “Just one of Lizzy’s little birds.”   
  
“Little birds?”   
  
“Yeah,” Zabini said knocking into his shoulder, “like, you know, “A little birdie told me”, that old saying?”   
  
“I still don’t-”   
  
“Like, some girls listen to gossip and some girls live gossip. But Lizzy, she’s practically made it into an art form.”   
  
“She’s spying on me?” Ed said incredulously, halting on the steps.   
  
Zabini shrugged, “She’s spying on everybody.” Ed hurried to keep up. “I wouldn’t worry about it much, she rarely acts on anything, I think she just likes knowing secrets.”   
  
“Besides,” Draco said further ahead, “It comes in handy sometimes. She figured Garrow would be a problem, like I told you, so, when you two started your little tiff down there, a little bird ran to get her, and she sent the bird to us.”   
  
“And then I bravely came to your rescue!” Zabini said dramatically, one hand pressed to his chest.   
  
“Quite the turn around that,” Ed said, his brow cocked, “I only just got my stuff back from that demented tree.”   
  
“Lizzy made him do it, save you I mean,” Draco said pushing open the door to their dorm. “Garrow hates me, and Elizabeth doesn’t do enemies so…”   
  
Zabini shrugged, “No hard feelings over your shit?” Ed just rolled his eyes and pushed past the other boy. God, he hated school.   
  
Garrow didn’t return to the room that night, instead, an olive-skinned boy named Peter showed up clutching his pillow. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway before Blaise hauled him inside, slamming the door behind him to block the draft.   
  
“I- um, Solomon said I- we were switching?-”   
  
“Yeah! We figured!” Zabini grumbled shoving the boy towards Garrow’s bed.   
  
Ed eyed the kid as he climbed on the mattress and pulled the curtains around him as if to hide from the other boys. “Are we allowed to do that?” he asked.   
  
“Probably not,” Zabini answered toothbrush hanging from his lips.   
  
“Would you rather Garrow sleep in here?” Malfoy asked, looking at Ed like he’d gone insane. “He’d probably slit your throat in your sleep. If you want to die that bad, I can ask Crabbe here to cave your skull in?”   
  
Ed let out a low sigh as he heard Peter give a frightened squeak from across the way.   
  
After breakfast, the next morning Garrow’s things were gone, in their place was Peter’s suitcase haphazardly slid into place like it had been chucked from the doorway.   
  
The next few days continued with an incident. Potions, Ed found, was easily his favorite subject though he held a certain fascination with transfiguration. Professor McGonagall’s authoritative nature was familiar in its sharpness and Ed embraced the challenge wholeheartedly.    
  
History of Magic was painfully dull. As interested as Ed had been initially, he couldn’t keep his mind on the subject at hand. Especially with Binns droning only adding to the monotonousness of the classroom. He instead, used the time for reading through Flamel’s journals or paging through various library books for hints of what he could use for the Alchemical Conductor. He didn’t worry about his classmates catching on to what he was doing as, well, they were rarely conscious the entire period.   
  
But it was all normal. Perfectly normal. Well, as normal as a magic school can be. He saw Harry in some of his classes. Hermione and Ron too, Ginny he saw more in passing, age differences being what they were. They all eyed him with thinly veiled suspicion and distrust, the boys sometimes with outright hostility. They don’t say anything though, they didn't mention the Order, or Sirius, or the summer where they were, maybe, almost, friends. So it’s normal, and because it’s normal Ed forgets about his spells of illness, even though they’ve been happening almost monthly for more than a year now. So, when it hits him, it’s like being struck by a bus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, next Monday is the first day of the school year for me. The chapter should still be out on time, but if it's delayed at all that's why.


	9. The Black Behind the Door

He’s walking down to potions when it happens. One moment he’s got his face buried in a book, the next the text is swimming in front of his eyes and Ed was forced to catch himself on the wall to keep from going down. There’s no one around to see, Draco had disappeared at some point that morning and the other Slytherin’s hadn’t bothered to wait for him. He shook his head trying to clear the dizzy, foggy, feeling in his head, it seemed to help, and for a moment the feeling retreated.   
  
He had to catch himself twice more before class was over and his work suffered for it. It was hard to make measurements and keep his stirring even as he fought off bouts of double vision. Slughorn watched him from across the room with a frown.   
  
He spat out a curse as his hand slipped, spilling far to much beet juice into his potion causing it to foam menacingly. The Potions master vanished the mess with a sigh and led Ed to his office by his elbow. Slughorn sat him down on the couch along the wall and pressed a pale liquid into his hand. “For the nausea,” he said quietly before excusing himself back to watch the class.   
  
The potion did it’s work well, and Ed made it roughly halfway into transfiguration before passing out across his desk. His dreams were a blurry mess filled with flashes of the North and Central interspersed with disturbing visions of thin, pale, corpses hung from the ceiling. As the visions flitted through his mind there was a growing tightness in his chest, as if a vice was being slowly closed the longer he stayed under. Then, when the pressure seemed it could grow no further Ed was spat out violently.   
  
He stumbled to his feet, his limbs moving strangely like he was underwater. He was in an apartment, Central if he had to guess, all the residential areas in the city were carbon copies of each other. While sparsely decorated, the home was far from empty. Bookshelves lined the walls, bursting with published works to the point that the owner had simply resorted to making stacks on the floor for the lack of more shelf space. There was a kitchen table pushed into the corner as if eating was far from a priority, every inch coated in more books and maps. The apartment was more of an intellectual dumping ground than any sort of real home, and while he supposed it fit, it was still a surprise when the doorknob jiggled and Mustang let himself inside.   
  
The man looked haggard like he hadn’t slept in days. Mustang ran a slow hand through his hair as he shrugged off his uniform coat. The item of clothing was quickly discarded across the couch and Ed followed his commanding officer as he stumbled his way to the kitchen. Mustang opened his cupboards and stared blankly at the bare shelves that looked back. He let out a low defeated sigh before snagging a bottle and a scotch glass and making his way back to the living room.   
  
The Colonel collapsed onto his couch and Ed situated himself on the low glass table across from him, watching for lack of anything else to do. These things were always random. Sometimes, if he ended up with someone like Greed and his gang they would almost notice him. They would keep looking over their shoulders like they knew someone was watching, and Ed lived for those moments. Any reaction, no matter how small, made his heart quicken. It was proof that he’d really lived there, that he hadn’t always been stuck in this backward world. Proof that there was a way back.    
  
Other times though, with Al, Hawkeye, Havoc, Winry, Armstrong… there was nothing, and it was like he’d already been forgotten. He wasn’t quite sure how long it had been for them now, not nearly the year it had been for him, but enough that he could see time passing around them. Each time he saw them they looked tenser, more tired, closer to the end of their ropes. The Promise Day was approaching and it weighed heavily on all of them.   
  
“Hey Colonel, I don’t think you're supposed to drink that much alone.” Ed murmured as Mustang finished off his third glass, staring forward blankly, his gaze going right through Ed. “‘specially without eating.” Ed rocked forward, bracing his elbow on his knees. “See I’ve been practically living in a pub these past few months. Not the same type you did granted, but I think Madam Christmas might be just as disapproving of Olivia if she could witness this little shit show.”   
  
“‘M not a shit show,” Mustang mumbled, dropping his head back so that it impacted the wall lightly.   
  
Ed’s eyes widened and he leaped to his feet. “Wait. Mustang, say that again. Can you hear me? Colonel!” The tightness in his chest suddenly returned with a vengeance and Ed doubled over as his breath was yanked from his lungs. Looking down Ed found his body covered in little black hands pulling him back towards reality. Ed gave a growl as the pull increased and he looked to Mustang, chest filled with tiny childish hope that his commanding officer could help him. Buy Mustang made no movement towards him, in fact, the only change seemed to be the little frown of confusion painted across his face.   
  
\---   
  
Ed woke up in the hospital wing, tucked away in the same back corner of the room as he had been last time. His robes had been removed and replaced by pale blue hospital pajamas and his white gloves lay folded on the table beside his bed.   
  
“Good Evening Mr. Elric,” Came Madam Pomfrey's voice as she swept into his little-enclosed area. “And how are you feeling?”   
  
Ed blinked bringing a hand up to kneed at his forehead. “Fine now, just a bit dizzy.”   
  
She nodded, “Gave Professor McGonagall a bit of a scare there in class, passing out like you did.”   
  
He frowned, remembering how the potion had seemed to fade away by the end of Charms leaving his head spinning as he’d made his way to his next period. “Sorry.”   
  
Pomfrey gave a light sigh and fixed him with an even gaze. “No need to apologize, but if you were feeling so bad you needn’t go to class in the first place.”   
  
“No offense,” Ed said rolling his neck, “I don’t really like hospitals all that much, they make me way too restless. I’ve never liked staying put.”   
  
She paused for a moment, glancing over at the clock on the wall. “Well, in that case, I’d say you have a few hours till you need to meet Professor Slughorn back here.” She said kindly, “If you want to wander around for a while… just be back by 9:30.”   
  
Ed grinned, thrilled that she was letting him out. He wasn’t sure why she wanted him back later, maybe Slughorn had something that could help with the dizziness. Maybe he had something that could stop him from getting sick every month. But, Ed hesitated, what if finding a way to ground him further in this world made it harder to leave?   
  
“AND,” Madam Pomfrey raised her voice stirring him out of his thoughts, “If you start to feel ill again, you come straight back here.” Her words were pointed and left no room for negotiation.    
  
Ed nodded, “cross my heart.” he grinned as his automail clinked lightly as he made the motion.   
  
“Alright then. But remember, no later than 9:30 young man!”   
  
“Promise.”   
  
Pomfrey left with a sigh, allowing Ed to throw his button down and slacks back on. While a quick glance at his watch told him that he’d missed dinner again, after the last time with Neville, he’d kept a little store in his trunk for such occasions. So as he pushed open the curtains surrounding his bed, he had a plan in mind Unfortunately it was a short-lived one, as only a few steps from his bed E found himself face to face with none other than Harry Potter.   
  
Both boy’s blinked at each other in surprise, unable to comprehend why the other was in front of him. “Oh. Hi, Ed. Feeling better?” Harry asked awkwardly, rubbing his arm. Right, All three of Harry's little gang were in Transfiguration with him.   
  
“Fine,” Edward said, nodding. “Just a little under the weather.”   
  
“Right. Of course.”   
  
Silence.   
  
“And you?”   
  
“Me?” Harry asked in confusion.   
  
“Uh, feeling better? I mean, I just figured seeing as we’re in the-”   
  
“Right! No. I mean, yes.” Harry took a deep breath. “I’m not here for me.”   
  
“Oh.” Ed paused looking around for either a red Weasley head or Hermione’s mane of curls. “Is someone hurt?”   
  
“Sorta, it’s Hannah Abbott?” Ed shook his head, indicating that he didn’t know who Harry was talking about. “Oh, well, the school got word today, her mother was killed.”   
  
“Oh," Ed felt his face tighten, that wasn't something he would ever wish on anyone. "I’m sorry to hear that.”   
  
“It was Death Eater’s you know.”    
  
Ed froze at Harry’s pointed words, he knew what the boy was implying. Worse, Harry wasn’t exactly wrong to think that of him.   
  
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ed said curtly, walking past Harry and out of the Hospital Wing. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have now. While he needed to talk to Harry, it needed to be on his terms and preferably not when his head was ringing like a fucking bell. But, Harry was not to be dissuaded, and Ed could feel the sound of the boy's footsteps following him.   
  
“What’s the deal, Ed?” Harry growled, reaching out to grab his shoulder. Ed jerked forward so his fingers just barely grazed his shirt. “What happened with you?”   
  
Ed darted around to see if anyone was watching. There didn’t seem to be any other students about, by Ed didn’t trust the portraits. “Shut up!” Ed hissed.   
  
Harry jerked back looking outraged making Ed roll his eyes with exasperation. How on earth did this kid get anything done shouting all the time? Could he not understand the benefit subtlety? He'd run a secret defense group last year for Pete's sake!   
  
“Seriously, just-” Ed winced as Harry let out a little note of shock as he closed his hand around the other boy’s wrist. “Come with me. If we’re gonna have this conversation, we need to find someplace private.”   
  
To Ed’s surprise, Harry followed him without complaint even as he dragged him rather roughly around corners as he looked for somewhere secluded. Ed eyed the courtyard with suspicion, there wouldn’t be any portraits out there, but it didn’t give them much cover from curious students. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor together would be enough of an oddity, but throw Harry into that? There was no way that didn’t make its way back to Draco by the next morning.   
  
“Wait here, I need to check something quick.” Harry narrowed his eyes like he thought Ed was gonna take the opportunity to bolt. “Relax Potter, I just figure there are enough people that each of us don’t want this little meeting to get back to.” Harry nodded and Ed left him around the corner, evening out his pace to appear more casual.   
  
“Ed- I, I mean, Elric?”   
  
Ed turned his head where a quavering voice drew his attention. “Peter? What’s up kid?” The boy looked like he'd just turned the corner, clearly surprised to find Ed here.   
  
“I- um, nothing," He flinched. "I mean, I need to show you something.”    
  
Ed frowned, “right now? This really isn’t a very good time.”   
  
Peter’s skin seemed to lighten several shades and Ed felt genuinely concerned that the kid might pass out on him. “Yes. I do.” He said nodding a little frantically.   
  
“Okay? Is everything alright? Is someone hurt?” Ed said fishing for more information, but the kid only shook his head looking slightly sick as he shifted from foot to foot.    
  
Peter turned around and scampered forward, looking over his shoulder to ensure Ed was following him. Ed made a move to do so, shooting a look over his shoulder to where Harry was hidden. Seemed Harry would have to take a rain check on their chat till later. Ed had a disturbing feeling his night was about to get a whole lot more interesting.   
  
\---   
  
Harry watched as Ed followed the other Slytherin, narrowing his eyes at the blonds retreating back. While he knew that whatever this was likely had no bearing on what the two of them had been about to discuss, he couldn’t help the feeling twisting deep in his stomach that something was wrong here. So, wishing that he’d brought his invisibility cloak with him, Harry moved as silent as he could after the Slytherins.   
  
The other boy, the one Harry didn’t know- though maybe Ginny would, he looked to be about her age- led Ed deeper into the heart of the castle. Harry attempted to keep a good distance back to avoid being seen but soon found that, with as fast as the boys were walking, his strategy would only lead to him losing them. Even with shortening the gap, Harry still had to stop and ask a portrait for which way they’d gone at one point.   
  
They finally came to a stop in front of a familiar length of the wall in the seventh-floor corridor, and Harry was forced to dart around the side of a suit of armor to stop from being seen as the boys came to a sudden stop.   
  
“Just- um, give me a second.” the boys said, his eyes never focused on Ed for more than a few seconds. This struck Harry as odd, as the boy began pacing to summon up the Room of Requirement. If the boy had gone to Edward for help, it seemed like the two should be on good enough terms to look each other in the eye. If the boy was looking for an older student to impress with his knowledge, why choose Ed? Why not Malfoy or a more influential Slytherin?   
  
Harry watched at the smooth surface transformed into a massive door, far different than the one that had greeted the DA. Edward let out a low whistle, “Neat trick,” He said, “Reminds me of my family vault. Was this what you really needed to show me?” his words came out with confusion to match Harry’s own.   
  
The boy shook his head. “Inside.”   
  
Ed reached up and rubbed the back of his head, glancing down at the silver pocket watch hanging at his waist. Harry himself was seeking out a window with trepidation as he noticed several paintings had nodded off for the night. He didn’t think it was late enough yet, but it still unnerved him to see Ed still in the school with something as odd as this going down.    
  
“Sure kid, I have a little time.” The boy nodded opening the door for Ed. From Harry’s vantage point he couldn’t make out what was inside as Ed entered slowly.   
  
“Well, well, well,” Harry felt the distinct prodding of a wand at his neck. Slowly he raised his hands, stomach dropping. “This just keeps getting better and better!”   
  
Harry turned slowly around, finding himself facing a large Red-headed Slytherin with a cruel grin cutting across his face. “What’s going on?” He asked, his eyes narrowed.   
  
“No, no, Potter. I really feel like that’s something you should be answering for me.” Harry swallowed, struggling at the moment for a convincing answer. “Then again,” the boy said, “Doesn’t really matter.” The boy glanced over Harry’s shoulder for a moment, and for a brief second, he saw an opening... only to watch it disappear as his gaze resettled. “You should be happy Potter. You always did love playing the hero.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Harry’s brows skewed up, unable to track the boy’s plan.   
  
“Well you see Oh-Chosen-One, I’ve got a bone to pick with Elric. And well, Dumbledore’s too much of a soft-hearted bastard to throw the fucker out for the mutt he is, Lupin proved as much. So, I needed to find a way to change our dear old headmaster’s mind.” Harry looked at the boy in horror as he began to walk Harry backward, realization quickly dawning. The red-head bent down, stage whispering to Harry, “Little Peter over there was supposed to be the sacrificial lamb for the evening, not that he knows that of course. I figured little twig like him against Elric, maybe 30 seconds. But you! Well, birds and stones…”   
  
“You’re insane!” Harry hissed, watching as the boy’s face darkened.   
  
“No, I’m just doing what needs to be done,” he growled his eyes dark and angry. And with that, the Slytherin shoved Harry into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Sealing him in darkness.


	10. The Fall

Harry whirled around in the darkness blindly as he heard something behind him but could make nothing out. The darkness was all-encompassing, and even as Harry pawed backward at where he was sure the door had been not a moment before, nothing but cool air met his fingers.    
  
“Edward? Ed where are you?” Harry called out, the sound of his voice dying quickly as if there were padded walls to absorb it.   
  
“Harry? What- why did you follow me?” Came Ed's voice a distance away.   
  
“Can you find the door?” he asked instead, choosing to ignore Ed’s question for now as he attempted to pinpoint the location of the other boy.   
  
“No, but I should be standing right by it. I haven’t taken more than a step away.” Harry frowned, neither had he, but Ed sounded like he was at least on the other side of the room.   
  
“That’s gonna be a problem…”   
  
Harry heard Ed spit out a curse in the darkness. “Do you know where we are at least?” The blond asked.   
  
“Uh yeah, it’s called the room of requirement, it does whatever you-”   
  
“-Require?” Ed finished sardonically.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“And how do we get out of said room?”   
  
Harry frowned, “I’m not sure, it changes to suit the needs of whoever asks, so I’ve never been here before- speaking of, who was that?”   
  
“The kid? Name’s Peter.”   
  
“No, no, the other one, there was someone else. Uh, Slytherin, red-head.?   
  
“Red-head?” Ed let out a sound halfway between a groan and a growl. “I should have known this wasn't over. Garrow. Solomon Garrow, fucker’s had it out for me since day one. No idea why."   
  
“I… think he’s had it a little more than just ‘out for you’ Ed.”   
  
“What do you mean?” The boy responded, sounding distracted.   
  
“Well, I wasn’t supposed to be here-”   
  
“-Gathered that.”   
  
“No, no, Ed... he was gonna lock Peter in here... With you. Alone.”   
  
“Okay?” He was silent or a moment. “Wait- Harry? Do you think- do you think I would hurt him?” Harry didn’t answer for a second in shock. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly trying to find a way to put his thoughts into words. No, he didn’t think Ed would hurt Peter. Not really. Even if he wasn’t sure where Ed’s loyalties lay, he couldn’t see the other boy hurting a kid, especially not one like Peter who looked like he could be bowled over by a strong gust of wind. “God Harry! Fuck- I mean-” Ed growled. “I’m not- I wouldn’t-”   
  
“I know!” Harry shouted desperate to stop Ed’s self-deprecating snarl as the boy tried to defend himself.   
  
“I wouldn’t, Harry. I would never hurt a kid.”   
  
“I know Ed.” He said quietly. “That’s not, that’s not what I meant.”   
  
“How else could I take that Harry? What else could you possibly mean?”   
  
“I just- I don’t think you would ever hurt a kid Ed, I don’t.” He took a breath. “But I don’t think- No, I know you don’t always have a say in that.” Ed didn’t respond for a moment.   
  
“What are you talking about Harry.” But his voice didn’t raise at the end like a question. It was blank, dead, resigned. “How- why would you?”   
  
“I mean Ed,” Harry gave a low sigh and dropped his head back. “It’s really obvious isn’t it? Lupin, I mean, we were near him for so long- and after everything, when it all came out- and with the prophet like it is? How could we not know Ed? There’s practically a blurb on the front page of every paper warning people away for Werewolves!”   
  
Silence.   
  
“What.”   
  
“I mean, maybe things are different in Germany-”   
  
“No. Stop. Shut up. Now.” Harry’s jaw clicked shut sharply. “Do me- do me a favor and say that again.”   
  
“Things are different in Germany?”   
  
“What? No. Fuck! That other thing!”   
  
“What other thing?”   
  
“Truth have mercy on me!” Ed exclaimed loudly. “Harry- _and answer me honestly here because I think I’m about to have a goddamn aneurysm-_ Do you,” Ed took a deep breath. “Harry Potter, supposed chosen one, _fucking savior of Hogwarts,_ think, that I, Edward Elric, am a _Werewolf?_ ”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“...Oh my fucking god.”   
  
Harry frowned into the darkness blankly. “That’s- is that wrong?”   
  
“YES!” Ed cried out, and Harry could faintly hear the sound of his arms coming to fall at his sides limply. “Yes Harry, I’m not a goddamn Werewolf!” Ed sputtered. “How-I mean, Seriously- How did you come to- How did you come to that fucking brilliant deduction of yours, Harry? Seriously, _a Werewolf?”_   
  
Harry could feel his face growing red even as his head swam with confusion. “Your eyes?”   
  
“My eyes?”   
  
“Yeah,” Harry said hesitantly, almost as if to tell Ed something he’d never realized before. “They’re golden?”   
  
“Yeah. No shit. Harry, my eyes are golden because despite my deepest wishes I look like my _ass_ of a father. Not because I’m a shape-changing wolf-man!”   
  
“I just assumed-”   
  
“Yeah. I gathered!” Ed gave a low sigh and mumbled something too low for Harry’s ears to pick up. “Why did- why did nobody bother to ask? Is this why everyone is always acting so weird around me?” Ed gave a sudden tisk of understanding. “My kind! Everyone kept saying 'my kind' I thought they were talking about Alchemist’s!”   
  
_“Alchemist's!”_ Harry cried incredulously, “Why would they be talking about Alchemist’s?”   
  
“Hey!” Ed shouted back. “Listen. What’s more likely? Wizard’s, specifically the ones in my house, discriminating against a person with alternative views on magic who uses a near Muggle science? Or, you know, that I’m just randomly a wolf part-time?!”   
  
There was a moment of silence and then Ed spoke again- “Wait. Wait for just a fucking- oh, oh you bastard!”   
  
“What? What Ed? What?”   
  
“Garrow!”   
  
“What about him?”   
  
“He was gonna murder, Peter!” Harry blinked, it seemed they’d come full circle. “He was-” Ed sounded against, almost wounded, like the boy couldn’t fathom someone doing something so horrible. “He’s just a kid,” Ed said. “Peter- Both of them. They’re just kids. How could you hate someone so much?”   
  
“I don’t think he hated Peter per say-”   
  
“I know,” Ed said, his voice bitter now. Angry. “Malfoy told me the very first day that Garrow had it out for me.” There was a pause, his words coming out in a growl. “He was just a little kid, and Garrow was going to use me to murder him.” Harry found himself shrinking back from the other boy’s rage. Afraid, truly afraid for the first time since being locked in the dark.   
  
“Ed-”   
  
“No!” The boy spat, Harry could faintly hear the sound of Ed’s feet pacing back and forth. The boy froze suddenly. “Does your wand work?”   
  
Harry started, he could believe he hadn’t tried that yet. _“Lumos!”_ he called out, flicking his wand. Nothing.   
  
“Figures,” Ed said shortly. “Mines out too, just figured we should cover our bases.” Harry could hear the boy moving around again.   
  
“What are you doing?”   
  
“Working on a way to get us out,” Ed muttered distractedly.   
  
“Won’t the professors notice you’re missing? Come and find us?”   
  
“What? Why- oh right.” Ed mumbled something under his breath, and while Harry couldn’t make out what it was, he doubted it was complimentary. “I don’t plan on waiting for them to figure it out, Garrow and I need to have some words.”   
  
“Ed,” Harry said warily, “what are you planning on doing.”   
  
Ed was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure yet.”   
  
\---   
  
Ed quickly found that focusing was almost impossible in his current state. His earlier shock and the newness of the situation had distracted him, but now as he tried to focus on a way out he was finding it hard to ignore the voices.    
  
It was Greed right now, he couldn’t make out what the sin was saying but the gruff choppiness of his voice was unforgettable. It was like someone was messing with the frequencies on a radio, the sound drifting in and out, stealing away Ed’s attention when it swelled to the point that he could almost imagine Greed standing just beyond him.   
  
He was on his hands and knees trying to get a feel for how the rooms magic circulated. Especially in a place like this, he couldn’t risk being reckless with his Alchemy. He had his own life to think of sure, but there was also Harry to worry about. Ed was wary of sending any sort of burst of alchemic energy to rip apart the floor, unsure how much the magic around him would fuel his alchemy.   
  
Normally, under these circumstances, he would grudgingly wait for the help of the professors. Harry was right, after all, especially if they though him a werewolf, they had to be looking for him. Under normal circumstances, Ed would puzzle out a solution or at least several theories regarding one, but never actually put them into play. Not with the potential for collateral damage the way things were. But these weren’t normal circumstances.   
  
Ed had always been of the opinion, that if it came down to it, his deadly sin was Pride. Pride in himself, overconfidence in his abilities… those were the things that had led him to try human transmutation and ruin his brother’s life. Recently, he’d been forced to reevaluate his ideas about Greed. Perhaps it was due to spending time with the literal incarnation of said sin, perhaps not, but the point was, Ed had found himself thinking that Greed really wasn’t that bad. That, he knew, was a dangerous way to think. Because, if the sorting hat was to be believed, Greed is what had brought him here. But, in any case, he’d always assumed his sins were as such. Pride and Greed, fitting for a scientist looking to push the laws to their brink. But here, now, Ed was being forced to reconsider that some, because Edward Elric felt nothing sort of wrathful.   
  
He could feel the magic moving throughout the room. It was different than normal, months of living in Hohenheim's estate had given him a good understanding of how enchantments moved. Magic flowed like a river, organic but it in a determined path. This magic however twisted and writhed like a living creature. Letting himself just sink into the feeling of its movement Ed could almost see the room shifting around them, the walls and floor fluctuating fluidly, meant to distract and disorient. Harry had said the room became anything you wanted it to be and Garrow had clearly wanted a prison.   
  
But… no. that wasn’t right. It wasn’t Garrow who had made this place. He’d been nearby, watching, but he wasn’t the one who’d made it. That had been Peter...right?   
  
“Ed?” Harry called out to him drawing his attention away from the magic beneath his hands. “You- uh, you still there?”   
  
“Yeah,” he replied absently, a theory forming in his brain. “Hey Harry, how do you change the room? Or rather, how did they go about doing this?”   
  
“You just walk back and forth in front of the wall three times thinking what you want from the room.”   
  
“So it’s telepathic?”   
  
“No,” Ed could almost hear Harry frowning. “Not really. It doesn’t just do whatever you want, you have to be somewhat specific.”   
  
“You have to have explicit intention…” Ed felt a grin creep across his face. “That’s good Harry, that’s really good.”   
  
“What? How do you mean?”   
  
“Garrow made a mistake.”   
  
“He- he did?”   
  
“Yeah,” Ed let out a little laugh. “He let Peter make the room.”   
  
“How does that help us? The room was still made, why does it matter who did what?”   
  
“Intention Harry.” Ed felt the excitement growing in his chest. “It’s all about intention.”   
  
“Gonna need to be a little more specific Ed.”   
  
“Garrow hates me. Hates me with a passion. Or rather, he hates _werewolves_ with a passion.” Speaking the word aloud caused and internal scoff, still caught up on the fact that no one had ever mentioned it. “But he’s a Slytherin for a reason, Harry, he’s patient. With as much as he hates me, he could have- should’ve if he was anyone else- fought me the first time we started going at each other. But he didn’t.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Because it would have meant nothing. He fights me, I fight back, doesn’t matter who wins as long as we’re both still alive. He attacked first so he gets, what? A slap on the wrist? Has to scrub out the dungeons? Whatever you do here for punishment. In any case, nothing happens. Garrow doesn’t want to fight me to prove he’s better or stronger, he wants me gone.”   
  
“He wanted you to kill someone. Even Dumbledore couldn’t justify keeping you at Hogwarts if you’d done that.” Harry said with dawning realization.   
  
“Got it in one.”   
  
“So why Peter?”   
  
Ed shrugged, and then remembering that Harry couldn’t see him he said. “Don't know, don’t think it really matters. Could have just been convenient. The kid scares easy, he was probably simple to control.” And, Ed thought to himself, he’s been sleeping in my room for nearly half a month, he knew I’d go with him. “The important thing is, Peter doesn't want us dead.”   
  
“But the room isn’t meant to kill us, so why would that help?”   
  
Ed shook his head lightly. “Yeah, but I’m fairly certain the kid had some idea of what was going on. He might be jumpy, but he was way too nervous to not understand in some part what was happening.”   
  
“So you think he might have left us a way out?”   
  
“Maybe not a purpose.” Ed said, “But subconsciously forgot to close a loophole or something.” Because while the magic here moved far more independently than it had any right to, it wasn’t quite as random as it'd first appeared. There was an area roughly halfway between himself, and the magic he took to be Harry, that didn’t move. It was a tether if Ed had to guess, something tying the room back to the real world of the castle. It was fused to one of the walls and only a few feet in size, but big enough that they could both fit.   
  
“Okay Harry,” he says as he tracked the magical currents. They were moving, both of them, it was how they lost their bearings so quickly, the magic just kept them from feeling it. “When I say now, I want you to jump directly backward.”   
  
“Okay?” despite his confusion Ed was sure the boy would do as he asked.   
  
Ed counted as he watched Harry move closer and closer to the target area. “Now!” he yelled, just a second early to give Harry proper time to react. Ed felt Harry’s magic move and he grinned with satisfaction as the other boy landed on the still ground.   
  
“Uh, did it work?” Harry asked, but Ed didn’t bother to respond his own jump was coming up shortly. Harry let out a loud curse as Ed’s shoulder jarred him sharply as he landed. “Ed?”   
  
“Yep!”   
  
“How’d you find me?”   
  
“A long story, and not particularly relevant at the moment,” Ed responded as he ran his hands along the wall searching for a catch, a handle, or anything he could grab hold of. He heard Harry let out a frustrated breath and he couldn’t help the tinge of guilt he felt for snapping at the kid. He could imagine how much he would've raged if someone like Mustang had said something like that to him.   
  
“Got it,” he said, as his fingers knocked into the side of an ornate doorknob. Turning it until heard a satisfying click, the room was flooded with warm torchlight from the corridor.   
  
“Oh thank god,” Harry said behind him as Ed drew his wand, unsure of what exactly would be waiting for them.    
  
The hallway seemed to be empty at first but years of big brother instincts drew Ed’s attention to the sound of muted tears. He and Harry stepped out into the hall, but he waved the other boy back as he made a move forward. “Peter?” he heard a gasp followed by the sound of shoes scuffing along the cobblestones. The boy came around the side of a suit of armor, eyes wide and red-rimmed as he looked at the two boys.   
  
“Edward?”    
  
“Hey kid, you okay?”   
  
“Yeah- but how? Why aren’t-?” The idea that Ed should be a feral wolf creature right now seemed to hit the boy, and, despite the evidence in front of him, the boy reared backward in fear.   
  
“Hey! Hey, kid. It’s okay, its okay. Not a werewolf, promise.” Ed raised his hands non threateningly. “See, didn’t even touch a hair of Potter’s irritating head.” Harry gave a noise of protest but Ed ignored it, watching for Peter’s reaction.   
  
“But Solomon-”   
  
“-Didn’t know what he was talking about.” Something was tugging on the back of his mind but Ed pushed it aside for now. “Speaking of which, where is Garrow right now?”   
  
“You’re not gonna hurt him are you?” the boy asked eyeing Ed suspiciously.   
  
Ed winced, “promise.”   
  
Peter watched him for a moment longer, “He’s in the bathroom. He’ll be back soon.”   
  
Ed nodded. “Harry, stay here.”   
  
“What- no, Ed!” But Ed was already walking away.   
  
He could hear Harry take a few steps after him and stop. Good. He wouldn’t hurt Garrow, well, not seriously, maybe a broken nose. But he needed to have some words with the other teen. If he had a problem with Ed, that was fine. Lots of people had a problem with Ed, and most of them were scarier than some jumped up prep school kid. But, if he had a problem, he needed to go to Ed and leave random kids out of it.   
  
Ed needn't walk all the way down to the bathroom, Garrow met him halfway. The red-head turned the corner just as Ed went to, and while the boy froze in shock, Ed did not. Ed shook his hand out as Garrow crashed to the ground, his nose gushing blood. It wasn’t broken yet, but Ed wouldn’t count on it staying that way.    
  
The boy pushed himself to his feet faster than Ed expected him too, taking his own swing that Ed quickly dodged. It was clear the hit he'd given him had thrown his balance off as Ed swiped Garrow’s feet from out under him. He shakily righted himself and Ed let him. He might not have thought much of the other Slytherin, but Ed knew they were unevenly matched, he didn't plan on kicking the boy while he was down, regardless of how angry he was.   
  
Garrow spat a mouthful of blood at Ed, the blond reeling back as the warm spray coated his face. The other boy took advantage of the distraction to push past him, throwing Ed into the wall as he went. Ed gave chase, Garrow’s blood soaking into his white gloves.    
  
He didn’t have a plan. That much was made clear by the frantic way he whipped around corners, leaping down stairwells without a second through. Granted Ed wasn’t much better. He followed Garrow without thinking, without a care for the hidden passageways and trick steps that he knew existed but couldn’t locate. So it was a surprise for both of them when they came to a dead end high on the castle walls.    
  
The red-head was frozen, his back to Ed, as he took in the sharp drop to the castle grounds below. Both boys were panting, Garrow as he struggled to breathe through his bloodied nose, and to Ed, it was clearer than ever that he hadn’t been keeping up with his exercise regime. The boy turned to face him, his red hair glowing eerily in the light of the full moon. Ed took a step forward, Garrow matching him, trying to keep the distance between them.   
  
He took a step and then another and then another, boxing the other Slytherin in. In his mind, he saw Peter. He saw Peter cowering against a wall, trapped by this boy. Trapped and dying, and he was angry. Whispers blew past his ears distractingly as he stalked forward. He shook his fist out at his side, ready if the other boy tried anything.    
  
The red-head took another desperate step back, and Ed watched in horror as Solomon Garrow disappeared over the castle wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life decided to fight me last week and I lost. Ergo, there was no chapter. Luckily, this one is longer than usual.
> 
> (Hopefully, this lived up to your expectations in regards to the whole werewolf thing)


	11. Stone Walls

The strangled cry Garrow gave launched Ed into action. He jumped forward desperately, his hands outstretched to catch any part of the falling Slytherin that he could. He’d dove too far out, that much was immediately apparent. He felt it as his center of mass shifted so that more of his weight was out of the castle than in. If he had stopped, then, in that exact moment he might have been able to right himself. But as it was, Ed could just feel his fingers brush along the top of Garrow’s shoe. So he didn’t stop himself.   
  
Ed gave a weak cry of pain as tension snapped through his automail, his metal hand clinging to the outer wall of the castle, his flesh one locked around Garrow’s foot. His momentary relief at making the catch faltered as both boys smacked harshly against the wall, leaving Ed inches away for losing his grip.   
  
Garrow gasped for breath below him and Ed spared a glance downward at the boy, watching with almost morbid fascination as red blood dripped down pale skin before mixing with orange and plummeting below. His eyes snapped back to the ledge however as he felt tremors racing through his arm. Automail was strong, far stronger than any flesh limb, but hanging as they were, the weight of the fall wasn’t on Winry’s handiwork but Ed’s own mangled shoulder.   
  
He let out a low groan of frustration, pulling at the arm he clung to Garrow with experimentally. The redhead's height was doing no favors for him now it seemed, the boy was far too large for Ed to hoist upward. Their only hope in this was to be discovered.   
  
“HELP!” Ed howled, he knew he couldn’t keep this up for long. His arms ached, the pull on his stump felt like it was being licked by fire. He couldn’t help the little voice that whispered in the back of his mind, the voice telling him that If he just dropped Garrow he would be able to pull himself up. “Fuck’n... “ Ed let out a groan through his teeth. “Garrow!” he cried out. “Hey! Bastard! Can you get to your wand?!”    
  
There was no response for a moment, then, “...gone.”   
  
“What?!”   
  
“Gone. fell.” the boy mumbled, his voice thick and nasally. Ed bit down on his lip hard as the boy swung his arm out as if to gesture to where his wand had gone but only succeeded in swinging them against the wall.   
  
Ed drew in another breath and let out another cry of, “HELP!” only the wind responded. Ed felt his wrist spasm, his grip on Garrow’s polished shoe slipping. He choked back a sob as he felt something warm sliding down his arm, the bolts in his shoulder tearing into his flesh to fight against the strain.   
  
“Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium-”   
  
“-What was that?” A sluggish voice interrupted him.   
  
“Shut it.” Ed hisses. “You and me, we aren’t done yet.” He closed his eyes and started again. He kept at it, fighting back the pain with atomic masses until he couldn’t anymore. His lips stumbled over Francium, and for the life of him, he just couldn’t remember what came next.    
  
It was cold outside. He hadn’t felt it at first, Madam Pomfrey's vessels were doing their job well. But now doused in a cold sweat, hanging in the wind like a kite, his body was racked with shivers.   
  
“Fuck’n,” Ed hissed as his arm spasmed again. “Hey Garrow, you alive?” Ed heard the boy grunt. “Drop you? Is that what you said? How polite of you.”   
  
“Don’t. You. Dare.” The other boy grit out. His voice was sluggish though, and Ed couldn’t imagine he would be conscious for much longer. Not upside down and bleeding like he was.   
  
“Hey, Garrow? It cool if I drop you if you when you pass out?”   
  
“I will haunt your ass, Elric!”   
  
Ed let out a sigh, he wasn’t going to drop him, not really. But, with each passing moment, Ed knew the chance of keeping a handle on both the boy and the wall was weakening. “HELP!” He called out again, feeling his voice crack a little on the P of his cry. Nothing, and then-   
  
“ED!” he almost started laughing at the sound of the other boy’s voice. “ED! WHERE ARE YOU?”   
  
“Here,” he practically groaned out the word. “Harry, ‘m right here. The wall, look over the wall.”   
  
He heard the sound of the other boy’s shoes slapping against the castle stones as he neared Ed. “Bloody hell!” Harry cried out lurching forward to wrap his fingers around Ed’s arm.   
  
“Wait, wait, WAIT!”   
  
“What’s wrong!” Harry said wrenching his hands back like he’d been burned, “ _Immobulus,_ ” Ed gasped out. “Immobilise us, I won’t be able to keep my grip otherwise.”   
  
“Right! Shit, okay.” Harry fumbled for his wand, and Ed almost sighed in relief as the artificial tension swept through his body from the spell. “Um, okay, so you two are going to be really heavy aren’t you?” Ed rolled his eyes, as it was all he could do in his frozen state. “Right. Magic,” Harry drew a deep breath.   
  
Ed felt a rush of power in his veins as he was lifted up through the air, hearing  Garrow give a rough cry below him. Harry looked tense, his face skewed up in concentration as he levitated them over the edge of the wall. Ed felt almost sick with relief as they made it over, his body drained from the stress both mentally and physically of holding them in place.   
  
The spell gave out all at once, Ed’s feet positioned to hit the ground first. Garrow was less fortunate. The redheaded Slytherin hit the ground head first with a dull thud. Harry let out a hiss as he flinched backward sympathetically. The Gryffindor waved his wand releasing Ed from the curse. “I take comfort in the fact that he probably deserved that,” Harry said, and Ed let out a little half snort.   
  
Reaching over to check the other boy’s pulse out of habit more than anything else, he saw Harry shifting awkwardly out of the corner of his eyes. “Where’s Peter then? Not that I’m not glad you're here…”   
  
“Madam Pomfrey took him.” Ah, so it seemed the teachers had shown up eventually.   
  
“He hurt?”   
  
“Uh no, not that I could see. But he was really shaken up.”    
  
Ed nodded slowly, reaching up to hold his bleeding shoulder. “That figures I suppose.”   
  
“Are you okay?” Harry asked, following Ed’s movement to where blood had soaked through Ed’s collar.   
  
“Yeah,” He winced as he rolled his shoulder. The adrenaline that had been keeping him going was all but gone now. However, he was not to out of it that he didn't notice the way Harry was staring at him, worrying his lip in a way that told Ed the boy had something to say. “Come on, spit it out.”   
  
Harry frowned, his hand tightening almost imperceptibly around his wand. “I- did you, I mean-”   
  
“Did I push him?” Ed finished for him. Harry nodded, and while there were still traces of the nervousness that had kept him from asking what he had wanted to, his face was contorted into a mask of determination. At that moment, Ed honestly wasn’t sure what Harry would've done If his intention had been to kill the other boy.   
  
“No.,” he said at last. “He fell, I caught him.” Ed frowned. “But it was my fault. I made him run.”   
  
“Ed…”   
  
“No Harry, it was.” Ed let his head drop back, his eyes focused on the full moon above him. “I had this teacher once, the most terrifying woman on the planet, and she would have smacked me silly for that little exchange.” He saw Harry frown out of the corner of his eye. “One of the first things she taught us was to stay present in a fight. Beating one person did you no good if you were so focused that you let someone else slip in behind you.” Ed exhaled a little laugh. “That I did not do tonight.”   
  
“Us?”   
  
“What?” Ed said, dropping his head to meet Harry’s eyes.   
  
“You said, us, “she taught us”, who else?”   
  
“Oh,” Ed pushed back his hair, wincing at the pain the motion caused. “My brother, my little brother.” He laughed, “You and I never really talked back before…” he waved his wrist vaguely. “And well, now sure as hell ain’t the time.”   
  
“I didn’t realize you had a brother.”   
  
“Al, he’s… not around, anymore.” Ed winced as the words left his mouth. Al wasn’t dead, even if that’s what the paperwork Bones had faked said. It didn’t feel fair, it felt like every time he said those words, he was giving up a little piece more of his life in Amestris.   
  
“I’m sorry.” Ed hummed in response, not really sure what else to say. “The, um, the professors are looking for you.”   
  
Ed barked out a laugh. “Oh, I imagine so! I mean, they thought I was a fucking werewolf didn’t they?” He was pleased to see a small smile dart across Harry’s face. The kid's life was stressful enough, he didn’t need to be worrying about Ed too.   
  
\---   
  
Dumbledore sat at his desk as he composed a message to the ministry absentmindedly. The note itself was of no real consequence and existed solely for the purpose of making himself seem busy when Edward Elric entered his office. When the knock came at the door it was more hesitant that he was expecting. Edward had always seemed the type to enter every situation with bravo regardless of the circumstance.   
  
“Come in,” He called out, not yet lifting his eyes from the paper. The door swung inward, Edward’s uneven steps preceding the sight of the boy. He looked rather ragged at the moment, his skin wane with dark bags under his eyes. He could easily see how his professors could have mistaken his condition. He supposed it was his fault for not speaking up, though he admitted he hadn’t thought much of it initially, he’d never had the time to form his own opinions on the boy before the truth had come out.   
  
“Professor Dumbledore, you wanted to see me?” Ah, there was the bite. It was suppressed some, anxiety and stress, almost like any other student would feel being called to speak to the headmaster but it still lingered. There was just enough coldness to make it clear the boy had not forgotten their previous interactions.   
  
“Yes,” he said finally setting down the quill pen resting in his fingers, “I wished to speak to you in regards to the altercation with Mr. Garrow last night, or rather, early this morning.” Edward nodded but offered nothing up. “How are you?”   
  
This took the boy aback, as much was clear by the blank way he blinked up at the headmaster. “How am I?”   
  
“Yes, I imagine it was quite taxing holding Mr. Garrow for so long.”   
  
“Well, I mean, sure. But why?”   
  
Dumbledore directed a kind smile at the boy, though judging from the look on Edward’s face it wasn’t well received. “Mr. Elric, you are one of my pupils, why wouldn’t I care?   
  
Edward scoffed. “Just ask the question you really want to. Don’t insult me with this mock sympathy.” The corner of his mouth twitched. He did care. He was sympathetic to Edward's plight. He was just also aware of the dangers of the boy, the threat he could pose to The Order, to Harry. If it could be helped, he intended to do whatever he could to steer the boy away from that self-destructive path. But he also knew that wasn’t what Edward wanted to hear.   
  
“Very well Mr. Elric,” He folded his hands lightly on his desk. “Did you push Mr. Garrow from the castle wall?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“No?”   
  
“No. I didn’t. He fell.”   
  
“Ah,” He paused for a moment. “But you did chase him, yes?”   
  
Edward nodded. “I was… angry.”   
  
He waited for a second to see if the teen would add anything further. “Do you know why Mr. Garrow intended to imprison you last night?”   
  
“He thought I was a werewolf.” Dumbledore frowned. “He thought if he could get me to kill another student it would force you to kick me out.”   
  
The headmaster nodded, “In part. But do you know why?”   
  
“No,” the boy said with a frown. “I just assumed… I just assumed it was something else like that whole pure-blood, muggle-born thing.”   
  
Dumbledore nodded, “For some, it is, their prejudice entirely a product of misconceived ideas about a misunderstood species. That is not the case for Mr. Garrow.” He watched Edward narrow his eyes. “While I in no way agree with Mr. Garrow’s actions, I would venture to say his… apprehension towards you is understandable.”   
  
“Apprehension!” Edward spat, the harshness in his words closer to what Dumbledore had expected from the boy. “He tried to get me to murder Harry! And if Harry hadn’t been there it would have been Peter!”   
  
Dumbledore raised a hand to placate the blonde, “His actions were indeed inexcusable, and excuse them is not what I am trying to do here Mr. Elric. Solomon Garrow was in the wrong, but his hatred of you is different than that of which you will no doubt face for as long as you remain in this world. Mr. Elric, Edward,” he said softening his words. “Whatever may have happened between us, between the Order and you, in the past has no bearing on the fact that I am a headmaster and a teacher first. It is my job to keep my students safe, to make my students feel safe inside my school and outside of it as much as possible. I failed in the first aspect of that, now I am trying to do the second.”   
  
“And how exactly are you going to manage that?” Edward’s words were dark and untrusting, his arms folded tightly across his chest.   
  
“I endeavor to prove to you that what happened last night is not something you can expect to ever happen again. Mr. Garrow’s actions we not motivated by pure prejudice, and as such, I think it rather unlikely you will experience an attack of that nature again, even from someone else who holds false ideas about werewolves.”   
  
“You keep saying that. You keep saying that Garrow was different. But I think you're going to have to help me there because I see nothing!” Dumbledore frowned. He remembered the flashes he’d seen in the boys head, the death, the violence, all perpetrated on those who were different. He was young, and to only have such extreme examples…   
  
“About 6 years ago, Alec Garrow, aged 9 years old was killed by a Werewolf while the family vacationed in Ireland.” Edward’s jaw snapped shut. “The boy was out with his brother, they had snuck out to stargaze… Solomon was unable to get his younger brother back to the family home before he passed on.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
Dumbledore nodded. “It doesn’t excuse what was done to you, any of it. My goal in telling you this is not to urge you to forgive him but to understand that despite this burden you’ve walked into, you don’t have to be afraid of constant retaliation."   
  
Edward nodded. “I… I don’t forgive him. I can’t. Maybe, maybe if it had been just me. But not once he brought Peter into it, brought Harry into it.”   
  
“And that is your prerogative,” Dumbledore said with a nod. “Edward, I know that this hasn’t been easy for you,” The boy stiffened in front of him, the understanding that they weren’t just talking about Garrow anymore passing through him. “And I know, that you’ve made choices,” Dumbledore gave him a pointed look. “That were difficult. Whatever road you take, just remember my boy, you have a good heart. Guard it well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Mondays don't work with my schedule to an almost startling degree so we're gonna try Friday.  
> I really want to keep these updates constant, but I can't do this if I don't have enough time set aside to write. Consider this a tentative schedule change.


	12. Elizabeth's Tale

Ed wasn’t sure how exactly it was that they knew, but they knew. He saw it in their wary gazes, the calculating way they looked him up and down as he entered the common room. Draco was laying across one of the sofas, his head pillowed in Pansy’s lap. Blaise was attempting to copy the pose with Elizabeth, only to have his shoes batted away repeatedly. As much as they were playing at relaxation, Ed could see the way their spines straighten as he came into view.

Nott, grunted as he approached. The first to fully acknowledge him since he entered the room. “Elric,” He said, before excusing himself up the stairs toward the dormitories. Ed let out a sigh, it was going to be a long year if this is how everyone was going to react to him. They weren't even through the first month.

“So then,” Came Blaise’s drawl from the couch. “Hear you tried to off Garrow last night. Can’t say I blame you mate.”

Ed rolled his eyes and took Nott’s vacated seat. “How can you hear so much, and then just all of it... just be shit?” he asked as he dropped his head against the back of the chair.

“Oh?” Elizabeth said, glancing away from Pansy and Draco. “Are you saying you didn’t try and do us all favor? Because I’d say certain people were pretty sure it was him who disappeared over the castle wall last night.” Ed’s eyes widened. How could- if someone had seen, that meant that had simply chosen to leave them hanging there. “Really?” Elizabeth’s eyebrows raised, as she muttered under her breath, “I thought he’d been exaggerating.”

“Bloody hell,” Zabini muttered, “That’s quite the way to go.”

Ed let out a squawk. “I didn’t kill him!” the room seemed to freeze around him, and the few Slytherin’s remaining in the room beyond their small group quit the room with their heads down.

“Well obviously,” Draco muttered, offering his input for the first time. “If Garrow was dead, they wouldn’t have just released you back into the general population.”

“Look.” Ed said, “I didn’t kill him, I didn’t even try to kill him.” he took a breath. “We had an… argument. That’s it. Things got out of hand, Garrow went over the wall, I caught him. No one,” he stressed. “Died.”

Malfoy scoffed, “You should have let him drop.”

“Draco-” Pansy attempted to intercede but the boy cut her off.

“There was very little in this world you could have done to make Garrow hate you more, but you’ve succeeded.” and with that, the boy exited.

Blaise scoffed as he watched the Malfoy heir retreat. “What? Knocking him-” he caught Ed’s eye, “Arguing him over a wall?”

“No,” Pansy said quietly, “now he owes Ed his life.”

There was silence for a moment, “Bastard can keep it,” Ed muttered getting to his feet, the common room no longer feeling welcoming.

\---

She wasn’t the one he expected to follow him, not that he’d expected anyone at all. 

Elizabeth announced her presence with a light rap against the stone wall, before stepping into the room. She didn’t say anything, just settled herself beside him leaning out over the window ledge.

“Why are you here?” He asked eventually. He didn’t know what to make of her and that unnerved him. She seemed an odd fit among the others, especially when you took into account that it was her friendship to Pansy that tied them. She wasn’t loud and boisterous like the others, speaking in mutters and dry humor as she commanded her little army of underclassmen spies. He wondered if it was one of them who told her about Garrow.

“He wouldn’t have died you know.” The words didn’t answer Ed’s question, and that fact alone did more to set the mood of the conversation than anything else he could think of.

“What?”

“Garrow, If you’d dropped him, he wouldn’t have died.”

Ed scoffed, “No offense, but I’ve seen what happens to human beings when they reunite with gravity from that far up.”

Her mouth twitched into what could almost be considered a smile. “There are enchantments in place, things to keep living breathing folk breathing. The school added them during the first wizarding war. So many dead people didn’t exactly make for the most mentally healthy environment.”

“Ah,” Ed hummed, because, really what else was there to say to something like that. “Are you trying to say you agree with Draco, that I should have dropped him?”

She shrugged, “I would have.”

“Well, I didn’t know he would have lived.”

“I would have dropped him regardless.” Ed turned to look at her, his eyes wide. “I doubt I would have tried to save him at all,” she added with a shrug.

“What- why? I mean, he’s awful, but he’s still a human being.”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, purposely not looking at Ed. “Because I am a coward, Edward Elric.” Ed frowned as she tilted her head to look at him. “Slytherin’s… can be brave, sometimes, but we will always save our neck first before all others.” her lips twitched again. “In theory.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Again. She ignored him. “Solomon Garrow tried to murder you for being a werewolf last night, didn’t he?”

“I- yes. But I’m not, a werewolf that is.”

She hummed. “I figured. Wasn’t a hundred percent, but I figured.”

“How?” 

“Draco.” he frowned. “My family doesn’t… run in the same circles as his per say, but we do hear things. There are… sympathetic ears in my house to certain Dark Lord’s movement’s and those ears have perceived that the Malfoy’s may be playing host to a  werewolf by the name of Greyback.”

“Greyback?”

“He’s not quite a Death Eater, a “half-breed”  would never truly be accepted into their ranks, but he is a rather prominent supporter of You-Know-Who. And,” she said, her face contorting tightly, “his tastes tend to run on the young side.”

Ed reeled back, “What?”

“From what I heard, he seems to think children taste better. Likes to hunt even when not fully shifted. He can’t be a pleasant house guest, I doubt Draco would have let you anywhere near him after that if you’d actually been a wolf.”

“Fuck. wow, that’s- just, wow.”

She nodded taking a deep breath of the chilling Scottish air. “You’re not a bad person Edward Elric.”

“I-? Thank you?”

She laughed, “You might even be a good one.” Ed waited to see where this was going. “Don’t… let this place drag you down.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are… ideas, about who we are, who Slytherin’s are. It has a tendency to isolate people, change people.” she paused. “When I look at you I see a rapid evolution. You can almost watch you change on your face. You look to people and surroundings as indicators of how to act and talk and feel. And that’s good. That’s survival. But I can tell that it's new for you. So that's why I'm warning you, keep it up too long and that play acting can start to overwrite who you really are.”

“I know who I am,” Ed replied, looking out over the Hogwarts grounds. He hated how weak his voice sounded.

She shrugged. “Just a friendly warning is all. I don’t think eleven years old me would recognize the person I am today at all.” Ed turned to look at her. This is why Elizabeth confused him, one second she was telling him less than nothing, the next personal details. The worst part was, no matter how transparent it seemed he still felt like he was being used somehow.

“I’m a half-blood,” she said. “But not in the, so and so many generations back there was a muggle-born in the family and now I technically can’t be pureblood kind of way. My dad’s a muggle, my mum was a witch. _Was_ being the operative word there, she's long dead now.”

“I’m sorry,” Ed said, but she waved him off, unaffected, unconcerned.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, I can’t remember anything about her. She’s just a name at this point. One my father rarely speaks, and one my grandmother enjoys throwing back in my face.”

“So…” Ed said slowly, considering, “You were brought up Muggle then, weren’t you?”

“To a point,” Lizzy readjusted herself, rubbing were the stone wall had left indents in her arms. “My mother was a pureblood, a Selwyn. Her folks didn’t take her marrying below her station particularly well. Juliet Selwyn was an heiress, who could have spent her every waking moment doing whatever she pleased and never would have had to worry about food or bills or money but then she just had to go meet that Muggle.” Elizabeth’s voice had taken on a nasty edge to it, a clear parody of someone else. “My father, Thomas Harris was a half broke, starving artist, who couldn’t hold down a job to save his life. My mother was enchanted by him, found it all very quaint, and then she was promptly disowned.”

“How does your father connect to the Malfoy’s?” Ed asked his face scrunched up in confusion. "How are able to know things about their household if you're living with muggles?"

“Good.” she said, “Someone's been paying attention.” She straightened up as if to give some sort of formal address. “But you see, I don’t live with my father. My mother was killed by Death Eaters shortly after giving birth to me and so I lived disconnected from magic, but not for long. When I was about nine, my uncle died of Dragon Pox and my grandmother lost her heir. She sought us out, watched me from a distance, and when my Hogwarts letter arrived she offered my father a deal. She would pay for it all. She would give us all the money we needed, all the connections I needed, but, I had to live with her.”

“He gave you up?”

She shrugged. “Not at first. But he got laid off and suddenly books looked quite a bit more expensive. Hogwarts has scholarships, things we could have done, but the more he thought about it, the more he became convinced I would be better off with my own people.”

“Your own people? That’s uh… harsh.”

She laughed. “Oh he didn’t mean it that way, but, yeah. It stuck with me, and it’s probably the reason I went along with everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, just, my grandmothers molding. She wanted her perfect heir and from her point a view, she had a lot of work to do.” Ed nodded, he understood, if to a lesser degree, what she was talking about. When he’d started in the military there had been so many people who had taken an issue with his methods and tried to mold him into the soldier they expected him to be. If it hadn’t been for Havoc and the others taking pains to make sure he still got to be a kid for a while, he wasn’t sure how it all would have turned out.

“She has expectations of me. People to befriend, people to avoid. Classes I should take to appear cultured, but not enough that I scare people away. I am to find myself a good pure-blood husband,” she paused for a second to roll her eyes before muttering out a quite, “Good luck with that one grandmother.” then resumed, “To dilute my Muggle blood you see.” She tossed a smile with just a little too much teeth.

“I’m not saying she made me who I am, I’ve always been this way, stalking habits and all,” Ed gave a little laugh unsure of how much that was actually a joke, but she smiled lightly so he figured he’d taken it the right way. “But she brought the match to the surface and Slytherin doused it in gasoline.”

“I’ll admit,” Ed said, “I’m not sure I understand why you’re telling me this.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Ed, sympathetic ears have heard about more than just Greyback.” he froze. “Whisper is The Dark Lord’s won himself an Alchemist.”

“Liz-”

“I don't care.” That stopped Ed short. “I mean, I do, but not nearly as much as a should. I’m sort of resigned to the fact that a good chunk of my classmates is going to join a murder cult after graduation. The only reason I’m saying anything at all is that a Death Eater would have dropped Garrow. I don’t want you to lose that piece of light in you. I won’t stop you or tell anyone. We’ve already established the fact that I’m a coward, it’s just nice to see someone managing to keep their head above water. Don't let the pressure of fitting in drag you down.”

Her hands dropped to her side with a little jerk, she seemed to have finally come to the end of what she’d wanted to stay. “Elizabeth-”

“I’ll see you at breakfast.” She said turning sharply, her robes snapping behind her as she moved to depart the way she’d come. 

Ed’s hand jerked out to catch her wrist almost without him realizing it and she froze in his grasp. “I- for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a coward.”

She shot him a half smile, the same guarded mask affixed to keep anyone and everyone out of her head. She let out a little chuckle, “You have far too much faith in my Edward Elric.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to pretend I posted this on time because it was finished on time. My computer, however, decided not to cooperate and now we are here.


	13. The First Snow

“Hey Eddie wait for us!” came Pansy’s cry as her feet padded down the stone steps of the courtyard. Ed shifted side to side to keep warm as the October snow ghosted down from the sky on all sides. He gave a sharp exhale of breath as the young witch crashed into his side wrapping her arm around him as she gave an exaggerated shiver.   
  
“Pans, what are you doing?” he asked as he tried to remove himself from her grasp, only for her to knot her fingers more tightly in his brown coat.   
  
She shot him a grin. “I’m making sure you can’t run away mister, you’ve been avoiding us.”   
  
Ed let out a sigh, “No I haven’t,” and it was the truth, he hadn’t, not really anyway. After everything with Garrow- who had been quietly removed from the school much to the delight of the Hogwarts rumor mill- Things had been uncomfortable, to say the least. The event meant that Ed had developed a certain degree of notoriety among the student body, though to be fair his status as Hogwarts only transfer student had already managed that to a degree. Now though, there was more. He wasn't just a curiosity now, he was a potential threat, an enigma, something to be taken apart and understood.   
  
At first, it had been aggravating. To hear people whispering about him, theorizing over why he’d tried to off Garrow. But after the first few days, Ed had discovered that denying anything just seemed to make the school more convinced of his guilt. Instead, he began to take it in stride, to use the rumors to carve out some fucking alone time. He had recently taken up residence into the school library in the far corner nearest the restricted area. He and Madam Price had struck up an unspoken agreement to ignore the presence of the other if he happened to be in there long after students were supposed to be in their dorm rooms. In return, Ed offered he services glaring at overly loud students. Shutting them up so Madam Price didn’t have too.   
  
“Well if you haven’t been avoiding us, explain why I’ve haven't seen you in weeks!”   
  
“I’ve been busy! And- what do you mean you haven’t seen me in weeks? We have classes together Pans, I ate Breakfast with you this morning!”   
  
Pansy gave an exaggerated sigh, “Edward Elric, those do not count.”   
  
“Why not?” he said in exasperation, matching Pansy’s tone.   
  
“Because Eddie, you have to do those.” She said turning her face upward as if offended. “You haven’t chosen to do so much as avoid homework with us in weeks!”   
  
“Well, of course, I haven’t been avoiding homework with you, I do all of it. Unlike you and Blaise, I don’t fancy spending every evening clearing blackboards in McGonagall's.”   
  
“You’re turning into a right Ravenclaw Eddie,” she said with a pout, releasing his arm. “Well, in any case, you can make it up to us. We’re all going to the Three Broomsticks for lunch, and you will join us.”   
  
“Pans…”   
  
“Oh relax Eddie!” came another voice as a dark hand clapped around his shoulder. Blaise gave him a blinding grin. “You can run off and be antisocial for a bit beforehand. The lads and I are stopping in Dervish and Banges for a bit and Pansy is dragging Lizzy off for girl time,” he said moving his fingers in quotation marks, “at Madam Puddifoot’s. Go. be free. Brood away!”    
  
Ed shoved Blaise off him hard, being around the other boy was like summoning an instant headache. “The Three Broomsticks?” he asked watching Pansy as her face lit up. He supposed it didn’t hurt to spend some time with them. Draco arrived a few minutes later, his skin wane and ill-looking with dark circles under his eyes.   
  
Pansy looked at him with concern but pursed her lips and said nothing. Elizabeth showed up soon after, in the midst of exchanging words with Millicent Bulstrode. She gave Ed a nod of acknowledgment, sticking out her hand for Pansy to link up with.    
  
When they made it to the village Pansy beamed and waved over her shoulder at them as she and Lizzy made their way towards a cafe that looked like a cottage. He couldn’t help but notice Elizabeth’s shoulders were looser than he’d ever seen them.   
  
“Well!” Ed winced as Blaise dropped his hand hard on his shoulder, still injured from Garrow the movement jarred the strained muscle harshly. “We’ve off then short stack, catch you later!” Ed looped his foot around Zabini’s leg taking him to the ground in one smooth move. The Slytherin gave a little cry as his face became buried in the year's first snow.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Ed said through gritted teeth, “Did you say something? I can’t hear you from down there.”   
  
“Oh fuck yo-!”    
  
“Let’s go,” Draco said snagging Zabini by his coat, dragging him off without even a look back at Ed.   
  
Ed rolled his aching shoulder. Making his way down the street he eyed each of the shops looking for something to interest him. In all honesty, he hadn’t even planned on coming on the trip to the neighboring village, but after dead end, after dead end, he’d needed some fresh air. He came to stop in front of an aging storefront with a hand-painted sign proclaiming Ceaser and Sons Bookstore. As he pushed open the front door he relaxed into the familiar scent of old books. While it lacked the towering ceilings of the State-run libraries in Amestris, it possessed a homely quality that put him instantly at ease.   
  
Ed ran his fingers along the worn spines of the tomes, reading the faded gold leaf titles. Reaching out he pulled a couple from the shelves creating a small stack in his arms. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular so anything would do. He just needed something to relax with for a while, something to distract him from the seemingly hopeless nature of his quest.    
  
“Ed? Is that you?” Ed froze, letting out a quiet curse as he slowly inserted the book at the top of the stack searching for the gaps his browsing had left.   
  
“Hey, Hermione.” He said quietly, as he slid the next book back in place. He’d effectively trapped himself here as he wasn’t about to steal the books to get away and the thought of just dropping them to run for it, left him feeling physically sick.   
  
“Is this your first time in Hogsmeade?” she’d gotten closer now and was quite solidly blocking his exit.    
  
“Yep.” He answered shortly, the next book was supposed to fit into a slot just behind her head.    
  
His eyes darted between the three points until she gave a little, “Oh!” and moved just far enough back to let him reach the spot on the shelf but not enough to get away.   
  
“Can I help you?” he asked, pained. This wasn’t how he wanted this to happen, especially in a place so reminiscent of their first meeting, considering how poorly that had gone.   
  
She pursed her lips together. “Can we talk?”   
  
“Aren’t we-”   
  
“-Away from people.”   
  
Ed reached down to draw his watch from his pocket and cursed lightly, it was still far too early to say he was meeting Draco and the other for lunch. “Fine. Just let me-” he pushed past her lightly and dumped his remaining books on the counter for the shopkeeper. “-buy these now.” She narrowed her eyes and Ed couldn’t help the slight wince he gave. It was far too obvious a play for time.   
  
Ed dug a few Galleons out and passed them over the counter, waiting as the shop worker wrapped his books in a thin layer of brown paper and bagged them. The universe was conspiring against him it seemed because the worker was far quicker than Ed would have liked, and now there was nothing standing between Hermione Granger and a very uncomfortable conversation.   
  
“Where to?” He asked stepping aside for her to lead, he wanted to see what he was walking into.   
  
“This way,” she said pointing, “The Shrieking Shack is normally fairly empty this time of year, superstition being what it is.”   
  
Ed hummed in response. He had to say he couldn’t see the appeal in a haunted shack when they all lived in a wildly haunted castle, but, then again, wizards were a strange people.   
  
They came to a stop on a snow-dusted road on the edge of the wood, the air bit a little and Ed could feel it deep in his bones. It was going to be one of those days it seemed. Hooking his bag in the crook of his elbow, Ed buried his hands deep in his jacket pockets. “What can I do you for Hermione?” He asked with a grin, doing his best to convince himself that this wasn’t going to be as completely awful as he suspected.   
  
“Where have you been Edward?” She asked, not rising to match his tone.   
  
“With Nicholas Flamel.”   
  
She frowned. “Why?”   
  
“Apprenticeship.” he didn’t intend to give away any more away then he had too.   
  
“What is your interest in the Philosopher's Stone?”   
  
Ed blinked, the question taking him back. “Nothing? I don’t have any interest in it.” And while that wasn't strictly true, he was not getting into that whole mess today.   
  
Why did... the Order stop protecting you?” she asked choosing her words carefully.   
  
“My choice,” he said. “I can take care of myself, I didn’t like playing the prisoner.”   
  
“Ed you were never a prisoner-”   
  
“-I wasn’t allowed to leave Hermione.”   
  
She bit her lip, “Flamel died months ago, Ed, where have you been?”   
  
“Dumbledore knows.” He answered a little bit of bite in his words. He knew their suspicions weren’t exactly unwarranted but it still made him defensive.    
  
Wait. Ed felt the movement again, just beyond his shoulder. Something shifting… almost like- Ed almost laughed, an invisibility cloak. It seemed Hermione and him had an audience. It seemed said audience didn’t like Ed’s last answer. Well, It served them right trying to set him up.   
  
“I’m not Dumbledore,” Hermione said, pulling him back to the present.   
  
“The beard gives it away,” he responded. He could see he was getting on her nerves, but now that he knew he was being spied on, he was having a hard time caring. He’d never liked the long con, that was Mustang’s department, now his entire life felt like one.   
  
“Ed, I’m just trying to get some answers here! I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult!”   
  
“Why I’m being so difficult?! Hermione are you kidding me?” he scoffed. “I don’t want any part in any of this! So excuse me for trying to distance myself from the people who keep trying to pull me back in!”   
  
For a moment all Ed could hear was the wind. “But you’re already involved aren’t you? The Order was protecting you for a reason, even if you don’t want to admit it.”   
  
Ed squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tiny flakes of snow melting as they met skin. “It’s… Complicated.”   
  
“Try.” She said, but her words weren’t harsh like he was expecting, they were almost kind. “Try Edward, because, from where I’m standing none of this looks good. Harry knows it was you, he remembers you from the Department of Mysteries. But… then you vanished, off to God only knows where and then reappear alongside Slytherin-!”   
  
“-They aren’t all horrible people Hermione,” he said, cutting her off. The streak of defensiveness caught him off guard. They weren’t kind, he knew that. Often they were mean and cruel and hateful. But her words felt harsh and uncalled for, even if he wasn’t sure how much they actually were. He supposed it was just his luck that he'd gone and gotten attached.   
  
“Well-” she cut herself off and pursed her lips. “That’s not- that’s not what I meant Edward. I- well, you know what I mean.”   
  
“Yeah, I do.” because he did. He knew what it looked like to the trio. He also knew that it was sort of the truth.   
  
“Ed I-”   
  
“Hermione, I can’t tell you everything- Hell, I can’t tell you most things. I just can’t. But look, this isn’t my fight Hermione. I care- I do- but, I can’t become involved any more than I already am. Look,” he sighed rubbing his hand across his face with an almost prayer to anyone who cared to listen that he wouldn’t regret this. “Vol-” he caught the name on his tongue, “You-Know-Who, he wants me. But he doesn’t know it’s me he wants.”   
  
“I-?”   
  
Ed gave a little groan, “Look, I know it’s hard to comprehend- just, I’m not… the easiest person to understand, my circumstances are not the easiest to understand. And that means, sometimes, I have to make decisions that aren’t good. For anybody. But they are necessary, and to not make them would be far worse for everybody. This isn’t my fight, and I’m doing my damndest to keep it that way.” With that Ed locked his jaw and stopped speaking. Hermione looked at him, her mouth opening and closing but she seemed unable to come up with anything to say. So Ed turned on his heel and began to leave.   
  
“What about Sirius?”    
  
Ed froze, and he wasn’t the only one. He could feel the shift of the invisibility cloak behind him. Hermione had gone off script.   
  
“That’s a low blow Hermione.” he said with a dry laugh, “But, If you must know, Sirius understood. He knew everything.”   
  
Then, when that garnered no response Ed stalked off back through the trees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is kinda a transition chapter, but, It also marks the beginning of the real meat of the story. (Virtual Brownies to anyone who can remember what happens during the October Hogsmeade trip.)
> 
> Also, I know I haven't been able to respond to comments as much lately, but I appreciate each and every one of you so so so much. Thank You for reading this fic, it means a lot.
> 
> -Pree


	14. The Package

Draco felt about ready to keel over. He knew logically that he’d been staring at the same shelf space for almost fifteen minutes now, but yet somehow, couldn’t motivate himself to so much as move a finger.    
  
He’d gotten back late last night, expecting everyone to be back in their rooms ready for bed so he could slip in without notice. He’d been carefully neglecting his work in Transfigurations for weeks now, just enough to irritate but not enough to actually get him into trouble, at least not yet. That was for tomorrow. He would fall asleep in class and land himself in detention giving him an alibi. An alibi for… well, Draco was trying not to think about that.    
  
In any case, he had justified coming back so late from the Room of Requirement knowing that if all went according to plan he would get to sleep through class. In addition, Garrow’s little assassination attempt had left him horribly behind schedule. Filch had been lurking in the hallway ever since, making it almost impossible to get in. He’d damn near given himself a heart attack the first time he’d come around the corner only to be met with the sight of Ms. Norris’s bright yellow eyes.   
  
But, in any case, he’d thought staying out late would be fine.    
  
Unfortunately, he was incorrect.    
  
It hadn’t been fine at all.   
  
Pansy had been up in arms when he’d gotten back to the room, something about Elric not spending enough time with the group. That meant he hadn’t gotten to bed soon enough, meaning he’d slept far later than he’d intended, meaning rather than falling asleep in class as he'd planned, Draco had slept through it.    
  
So, no detention.    
  
Well, yes detention when he got back and the teachers realized he’d gone to Hogsmeade despite skipping class. But as of now, he couldn't really be bothered to care.   
  
Upon realizing that his plan had gone to shit, Draco really had intended to stay at the school, maybe make up some of his work with the cabinet. But then, Zabini in passing had grabbed hold of his neck and steered him outside. As apparently, last night in his sleep deprived state, he’d accidentally agreed to Pansy’s scheme to get Elric to go to lunch with them.   
  
It was all so fucked.   
  
So now, he stood staring blankly at a shelf, and it was all Draco could do not to fall over or send himself into some sort of stress-induced fit.   
  
A woman bumped into him and Draco damn near cried out as he felt the movement jar the package in his coat pocket. He didn’t even know why he’d brought the stupid fucking thing. He couldn’t do anything with it, not without an alibi. But yet somehow, it had found its way into his pocket, as if tempting him to do something truly insane.   
  
He felt paranoid as the woman walked off with a muttered apology. What if she had felt it? What if she knew? But, no, she couldn’t know. How could she know? What if she was an Auror? What if-?   
  
Draco cut off his own spiraling thoughts as he pushed his way outside of the shop dragging in deep breaths of cold October air. No, he reasoned, she couldn’t be an Auror. Because, if she was, that would mean they knew. If they knew he wouldn’t be here, they would've swooped in and had him rotting in a cell in Azkaban by now. It was fine. Just some random lady. Jesus, he needed to get a grip.   
  
He raked a slightly trembling hand through his pale blonde hair trying to force his body into submission. He allowed himself to slid down against the side of the building so that he was all but squatting in the snow; his dark wool coat bunching up against the ground. He drew in another deep breath and let his head drop back onto the shop's stone wall. He wondered if this sort of thing got easier.   
  
He was under no illusion that his family had clean hands, but it never seemed to get to them. He wondered if perhaps it was because they’d gotten over all this silly nonsense years before he was born. He wondered when he would begin to enjoy it as they did…   
  
Draco’s stomach turned at the thought. The image of him standing, a grin plastered unnaturally wide in a garish imitation of his aunt, flashed through his mind. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to become that.    
  
There were some nights, sitting alone in the dark, that he wondered if Bellatrix Lestrange was even human anymore.   
  
Draco shook his head and pulled himself back to his feet. It didn’t do to dwell of such things. It just needed to be done. Glancing across the rode Draco spied a familiar head of golden hair trudging out of the woods. Feeling the overwhelming need to move, Draco strode across the way intent on intercepting Elric.   
  
“My God, did you really go to the Shrieking Shack to brood?” he said, playing up the haughtiness in his tone to hide the shake.   
  
“Well you know me,” Elric said shooting him a look that told Draco he hadn’t been nearly as successful as he’d hoped, “I always strive to confirm everyone’s worst fears.”   
  
Draco let his head loll back a bit, “Yeah, the whole werewolf thing has to be fun.”   
  
Elic gave a half barked laugh, “It’s hardly the first time I’ve been called a dog. And, I mean, it’s a bit irritating, but it hasn’t been all bad, people seem more inclined to stay out of my business this way.”   
  
Draco let out a quiet hum. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”   
  
“Oh?”   
  
“Word is, that Potter was involved somehow.”   
  
Ed nodded. “Yeah, he was. He was the one Garrow was hoping I’d murder.”   
  
He gave a low whistle. “Well, seems he did something for the good of the House after all. Or, tried to at least.” Elric gave him a look that Draco just let roll off him. The other boy was practically an honorary Death Eater at this point, there was no need for him to care. “I’m just saying,” Draco added with a shrug, “Potter is a curious little fucker, doesn’t tend to know when to leave well enough alone.”   
  
“Yeah,” Ed said laughing again, “I know. I’ve just gotten back from a little impromptu interrogation.”   
  
“Really?” Draco said blinking in surprise. That felt a little direct, even for Harry. “What did you tell him?”   
  
“Told him to fuck off.” Draco laughed, “It was none of his damn business anyhow.”   
  
The two fell into a comfortable silence and Draco found himself settle in a way he hadn’t been for a long while now. That was until he saw where Elric had been heading them.   
  
“You actually look like you’re going to enjoy this less than me,” Elric said in a amazement as he took in Draco’s face.   
  
“Shut up.” He muttered, shouldering past the other boy and into the pub.    
  
The warm air and loud noises from within the pub assaulted Draco’s senses as he stepped onto the floor. At first, he thought Elric and himself must have been the first to arrive as he saw no familiar flashes of green and silver. At the table nearest to them sat a girl from the Gryffindor Quidditch team with a friend. The two of them stop talking when they saw the boys, looking Elric and himself up and down in a vaguely menacing way.    
  
He jerked his head away, pointedly not making eye contact with the two girls, in doing so he caught a glimpse of Lizzy and Pansy tucked away against the far wall. “This way,” he muttered snagging Ed’s sleeve as he crossed the room.   
  
The girls were settled in a booth seat, Elizabeth stretched out, surveying the room with Pansy nestled in her side.   
  
“Drakey! Eddie! You made it!” Pansy exclaimed shooting upright earning both boys glares from a disgruntled Elizabeth.   
  
“Figured better in than out,” Elric said seating himself across from Lizzy, “Never did like like snow much.” But as he spoke, Draco found the boys voice far to wistful for that to be the entire truth.   
  
“Where’d Zabini and Nott fuck off too,” Lizzy asked as she righted herself so that Pansy could take the seat beside her rather than resuming their earlier position.   
  
Draco shrugged,” Don’t know, I got bored and left.”   
  
She hummed leaving the group in an uncomfortable silence. “Edward,” Draco let out a quiet sigh of relief that the questioning was directed away from him, “Are you going home over break or staying at school?”   
  
“Don’t know yet,” he said with a shrug, “Nobody’s around- so It’d just be me, but it might be nice to take a break from school.”   
  
Draco winced, dead parents was hardly something that injected life into a conversation. “All right then!” he pushed himself to his feet “Drink orders, everyone? No point waiting for the other to show.”   
  
“Butterbeer,”   
  
“Butterbeer,”   
  
“Butterbeer,”   
  
“Fantastic,” he said, before turning towards the bar with a stilted move.   
  
As he was walking away he heard a quiet murmur of, “Don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. Real sorry Eddie, that sounds awful lonely.”   
  
“What’ll it be?” the barman asked as he made his way to Draco, distracted by an obnoxious table by the door.   
  
“Four-” there was a loud yell from behind him.   
  
“-Sorry kid, give me a moment,” he grumbled as one of the men tossed down his tankard shattering it against the floor. As the barman made his way the table, the Gryffindor’s from earlier retreated towards the bar to stay out of the way.   
  
“Angie, we should just go,” one of the girls said, pulling on the arm of the other.   
  
“Nah, we have a while still. I just want to get one more drink before I have to start on that potions essay.”   
  
“Fine.” the girl murmured quietly.   
  
Draco directed his attention back towards the barman as he now faced off against two much larger patrons, telling them in no uncertain terms that it was time for them to leave.   
  
“...so in the letter my dad sent…” Draco’s hearing turned back in just in time to hear the girls laughing wildly about something that the girl- Angelina! That was her name- had gotten from home. The two of them were so caught up in their laughter that the one nearest to him backed right into him, grabbing hold of his jacket suddenly to steady herself.   
  
The laughter petered off immediately as the girl jerked back, her hand running across the package in his coat as she did so.   
  
“Sorry, I didn’t- shit, sorry Draco.”   
  
He had a hard time formulating a response at first, his head so full. Surprise, anxiety, fear, and… _anger._ Anger welled up in him almost overpoweringly. _How dare they!_ his head seemed to scream. _How dare they laugh and enjoy themselves as he stood here on a precipice that ended in death either way he fell._ “It’s fine,” he spat out, his tone far too hostile to be normal.   
  
Angelina fixed him with glare, “fuck off Malfoy, she said she was sorry.”   
  
They stood staring at each other for a moment, both of their jaws clenched in rage, waiting for the other to make the first move. The sound of a voice tore them apart.   
  
“I’ll be with you in just a minute!”   
  
The barman had returned, the incident dealt with. With a sigh of relief, the girl who’d bumped into him glanced back towards their table longingly.   
  
“Yeah, you go sit down,” Angelina said quietly to her, her eyes never leaving Draco.  “I’ve got to run to the restroom, we’ll leave after. I think I’ve changed my mind about that drink.” Draco watched her go. A thought, a crazy fucking though stirring in the back of his mind.   
  
“Sorry that took so long, what was it you said you were having?”   
  
“I- never mind,”   
  
“What?”   
  
“I changed my mind,” he murmured, “I’m not thirsty.” And without a look back, he made his way towards the restrooms. The package in his pocket had never felt heavier.   
  
\---   
  
Ed had slipped into easy conversation with the girls by the time Nott and Zabini show up. Apparently, they'd gotten waylayed in a joke shop somewhere down the street, something they’d taken pains to explain was far superior to “that orange monstrosity in Diagon Alley”.  Ed laughed, but his thoughts were elsewhere.   
  
Draco still wasn’t back yet.    
  
The boys excused themselves to fetch their own drinks and returned with tankards bigger than their own heads.   
  
Draco still wasn’t back yet.    
  
“Little shit, probably took the opportunity to ditch,” Zabini said with a roll of his eyes. “He’s been awful shifty of late. Avoiding us almost as much as Elric here-” he hit Ed’s shoulder with his elbow, just a little harder than what was strictly necessary.   
  
Ed just rolled his eyes and glanced back over towards the bar. Something didn’t feel right. While he didn’t doubt Malfoy would just cut and run, something about this felt wrong. Zabini was right, Pansy earlier too, there was something off about him lately, and whatever it was left a pit in his stomach. He'd glimpsed it earlier when Draco'd joined him on the street, but he'd dismissed it as paranoia.   
  
“I’m gonna go see about drinks, as it seems we’ve been abandoned,” he said pushing himself away from the table. The girls waved him off as he twisted through the crowd of people, calling out their orders after him.   
  
Ed scanned through the room, searching for the thing that would tell him why he felt so much dread. There was a girl by the door. A Gryffindor. Ed didn’t know what it was about her that drew his attention, but once he saw her he couldn’t look away.   
  
She was shifting from side to side, one hand reached up and wrapped around the opposite arm. She was looking on… just sort of... glassy-eyed. The girl gave a shake of her head and turned towards the bathrooms, Ed’s eyes following her steps. She disappeared for a minute, and Ed was just about to resume his search when she exited.   
  
Her steps were stilted and wrong almost like she was being pulled along by an unseen force. She resumed her position by the door, blinked rapidly, and began to shift side to side again. Five minutes later the bizarre display began anew. The girl walked to the bathroom, disappeared, and walked out only to resume her position.   
  
That was enough for Ed. Putting his head down he wove in and out of the pulsing flow of people pouring in from the snow outside. As he reached the ladies room, he sent a quick glance over his shoulder to see that no one was watching and stepped inside.   
  
There was water running from one of the facets, the rushing echoing off the tile walls filling the room with white noise. Ed froze, peeking out from around the corner was an arm. The slender dark wrist lay splayed across the ground, and as Ed approached just the slightest bit, he could see the ends of dark strands of hair.   
  
Almost without recognizing it, his wand found its way to his hand. Now that he was closer he could hear breaths. Loud and hitched, muffled though, not meant to be heard. His boot scuffed tile.   
  
He froze. The breathing stopped.   
  
_“Stupify!”_ A voice screamed out. Ed’s eyes widened as he was confronted by a flash of red. He didn’t know how he managed to block it in time, he couldn’t even remember the words leaving his lips; but he must have, as the spell went careening the other way just barely missing its caster.   
  
Draco stood before him, shaking like a leaf, his eyes wide and frightened, but he didn’t raise his wand to cast again. The Slytherin's eyes danced between Ed and the girl. Ed and the body Ed refused to look at. Refused to look at until he knew doing so wouldn’t leave him dead.   
  
“Draco,” he asked shaking his head. “What have you done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah boy. I rewrote this chapter a lot. I'm not sure I'm totally satisfied with it, but, I was going to drive myself crazy if I kept working on it. SO. ThErE wE gO.


	15. Lone

Draco's eyes met Ed's dead on. They were blank and unfeeling, cold, in a way he wasn't use to seeing on the other boy's face. His hand hung loosely at his side, his wand limp in his fingers. "This is the ladies room Elric, or hadn't you noticed?" His words were bitter, and despite them being directed at him, he couldn't help but be relieved to hear any sort of emotion in Draco's voice.   
  
“Okay,” he said evenly, ignoring Malfoy's words as he reached to find the girl's pulse. To his relief, it was beating along evenly, if a bit slow, in her wrist. “What's going on?”   
  
Draco had himself half relaxed, half braced in the bathroom corner, watching Ed with dull eyes. The lack of response from the other boy worried him, and Ed found himself scanning over him for any evidence of injury. "Are you okay?" he asked. He could find no trace of blood or harm on him, but he knew from personal experience that didn't necessarily mean nothing was wrong.    
  
"For fuck's sake Elric," he said tossing a hand out lazily, "there's a girl lying on the fucking tile, and you're asking _me_ if I'm alright?"   
  
"Yes." Not to say he wasn't concerned for the girl, he was, he really really was. But, he supposed there was some small part of him that was hoping Draco hadn't put her there; or if he had, that he was justified in doing so.   
  
"I'm fine. All ten fingers and toes accounted for." His words were dry and bitter, Ed tried his best not to let it rub him the wrong way. The other boy was contrary by nature, he knew that. Hell, he was too in his own way. The difference was, he'd had people in his life who'd let him get away with outbursts of emotions; the more he knew Draco, the more he was sure that hadn't been the case for him. So where Ed would've yelled and revolted, he shut down and held tight to anything that could be perceived as weakness.   
  
"Alright then, so what's going on? What is this?"   
  
Draco winced, actually winced. "Look. Ed. Just turn around, walk out. This is something I have to do."   
  
“Do what Draco?” he said, taking a step forward and putting himself between Draco and the fallen girl, “What do you need to do?” It was Death Eater business, or somehow related to it, that much Ed was certain of. There was no pleasure, no glee in his actions; whatever he was doing here, it wasn't for him.   
  
“I can’t-” he spat out, Ed watched as a touch of panic colored his eyes for just a moment. “No. This- _this is my duty._ This doesn’t concern you, Elric, go away.”   
  
"Draco-"   
  
"He'll kill them, Elric- Ed." he froze. "This is my one chance. If I don't make this work, I lose everything."   
  
The bathroom door swung open, “Angelina? Are you almost ready to g-” Later, Ed would feel a tinge of guilt for how fast he stunned the girl as she entered the room. The second Ed saw her eyes begin to widen, the spell spilled out. A curse slipped from his lips as he lunged forward to catch her before she could hit the floor.   
  
Draco looked stunned as Ed lay her gently on the ground beside Angelina. “You- why would you do that?”   
  
Ed pursed his lips as he turned around. “Draco,” he said, keeping his voice even as he met the boy's eyes, “What’s going on?”   
  
In the future, when he was cold, alone and in pain, he would look back on this moment and wonder selfishly what he could have avoided if he'd just walked away. If he hadn’t insisted on knowing what was happening, if he hadn’t tried to help, could it all have been avoided? But, standing in that bathroom with Draco, he didn’t turn away, he didn’t leave; because under everything, all the rage and exaggerated anger, the hidden cunning and incomparable intelligence, Edward Elric was always first and foremost an older brother.   
  
“Let me help.”   
  
The words came out more sincere than even Ed had expected them to. His opportunities for such things had been few and far between in recent times. Elia and her family, Olivia and Ashley, chances that he had been robbed of at this point   
  
“Why? You don't even know what I'm doing.” Ed felt a dull pang in his chest.    
  
"Then tell me, and we'll go from there."   
  
"He- The Dark Lord has-" Draco swallowed his words back, glancing around nervously.   
  
"No ones listening."   
  
Draco shot him a narrowed look, "How can you tell?"   
  
"Just can, keep going." In truth, Ed had been monitoring the door carefully ever since Angelina's friend had burst in. "It's an Alchemist thing," he added when he saw Draco's clear suspicion.   
  
"I shouldn't."   
  
"Draco, trust me."   
  
"Trust you!? Ed, _I hardly fucking know you!"_ his lips curled into a nasty sneer, "how do I know you don't just want it for yourself?"   
  
"Want it-? Draco, I don't even know what"it" is!"   
  
"Bullshit. _you're-_ you've been lurking around for God only knows how long! The one project- _The one fucking project my father was working on when he went to Azkaban that didn't fall through was you!"_   
  
"I had nothing to do with that!" he hissed.    
  
It wasn't strictly true of course, but even seeing the chaos it had caused, Ed still couldn't bring himself to feel anything but joy at the image of Lucius Malfoy rotting in a cell somewhere. Perhaps it was Hermione, dragging Sirius's memory up into the forefront of his mind that did it, perhaps it was a part of himself that he didn't want to think about that was responsible, but in any case, he couldn't help the almost vicious way he pushed himself forward into Draco's face.   
  
"I had nothing to fucking do with that!"   
  
"Sure," Draco spat out his teeth bared, " _nothing to fucking do with that,_ the same way you had no fucking idea I'm meant to off Dumbledore!"    
  
A second after the roar left his lips, Draco seemed to collapse in on himself, defeated. Ed took a staggered step back.   
  
"Oh." fuck. Ed felt an inappropriate desire to smash his head into a nearby wall, of course, it was Dumbledore. Why not? Why the fuck would Ed expect anything else from Voldemort.   
  
"Yeah." Draco sounded hollow, and at that moment Ed was forced to recontextualize ever black mood Draco had found himself in throughout the year; every time he'd fallen asleep in class, or wandered in just before curfew. The stress he must be under... "You, uh, you didn't really know?" Ed shook his head dumbly, "shit," Draco hissed out, raking a hand through his hair, making it tumble wildly on either side of his face.   
  
"Wow." Ed blinked forcing himself to focus. This was messy, simply put. "So how does all of this-" he said waving his hand around the room, "-tie in with, uh, Dumbledore?"   
  
Draco retrieved a package from his coat, looking like he was moving in spite of himself. “It’s cursed. He wouldn't- if a Gryffindor was to approach him with it, he wouldn’t hesitate to take it. It was always my plan… things, just, changed.” He recognized it, and Ed felt almost like laughing. It was the package he'd seen that day in Kockturn Alley, as he followed the trio follow Draco. It had been under his nose the entire time and he'd fucking missed it.   
  
Ed nodded slowly trying to connect the dots in front of himself as they presented, “You want to put them under the Imperius curse?” It was hardly his first choice, moral, legal, and ethical concerns aside it was a tricky bit of magic. For all the Black's family library may have lacked in terms of magical theory, it had more than made up educating Edward in the most deprived things wizards could do to each other. “Have you ever done it before?”   
  
“Yes I-, Aunt Bella’s had me practice before.”   
  
“Successfully?” Ed asked, unsure he wanted to know. If hadn't, that made Draco's plan even more concerningly reckless than it already was. If he had, well, that was something to deal with at a later time.   
  
“I can’t get it to hold consistently.” Draco frowned, “If things are normal I can get it just fine, but there are just so many… distractions,” he wavered. “She kept throwing it off. I had to stun her- the spell can do bad things to a person after too many tries.”   
  
Elric nodded, considering. “It doesn’t have to hold for long right? Just until she can get to Dumbledore?” Draco nodded, “But then the issue involves her remembering…” he turned to face Draco his eyes oddly dark, “We aren’t killing her.”   
  
“No! _I mean-”_ he said seeing the way Ed’s eyes widened, “no, killing her. Right. Of course.” Ed eyed him, looking for some hint that he wasn’t entirely sincere. “Nobody else needs to die,” Draco added quietly.   
  
No one was going to die at all. Ed wouldn't let that happen, for everyone's sake. Ed let out a low sigh, he could almost feel an invisible wire intertwining him ever more tightly to this world's problems.   
  
“Good.” Ed moved so that he was squatting between the two girls, turning his back on Draco for the first time since he’d entered the room. “How are you with memory spells? I noticed the one on her earlier,” he said gesturing to Angelina's friend.   
  
"Good, I've always been sound with those."   
  
Ed nodded, "Take her friend, would you? Something simple, like, she waited for her, got impatient and went to find her in the bathroom."   
  
"Yeah," Draco said redrawing his wand, "That'll help fill in the blanks to cover any bleedthrough."   
  
"Bleedthrough?"   
  
"Yeah, memory spells are well and good, but they don't do much with physical memory. Touch, taste, scent, all of them can act as triggers pulling things back that should be gone for good."   
  
Ed nodded to himself, that was important. When he went to Dumbledore, because that was the plan, to go to Dumbledore, he'd need proof. Ed didn't dare think the professor would consider him a credible witness, but if he could find a trigger, something that would bring things back for the girls... He wanted to help Draco. Dumbledore, for everything that he was, cared about his school, his students. The Order had taken him in with very little to go on, so he was pretty sure he could get the old man to take Malfoy into hiding somewhere.   
  
And well, if he wasn't willing, then Ed supposed he would just have to take it upon himself.   
  
“You obliviate her friend, I’ll take care of her.” His fingers twitched at the thought but he refused to let it get to him.   
  
“I can do it,” Draco hissed defensively, clearly trying to retake control of the situation. But Ed shook his head.   
  
“I’ve got it.” This was something he needed to do. If it was going to be done on Ed's watch, it would be Ed doing it. He knew he wasn't truly sparring Draco from anything, but he still couldn't sit by and watch the boy give over another piece of himself. “Imperio,” he whispered.   
  
It was a weird sensation using the unforgivable curse, his magic felt cold and slick, covering her mind in a way in a way that left Ed wracked with shivers. He pictured what he wanted in his mind, pictured her taking the package up the steps of the school, pictured her putting it in Dumbledore’s hands. Then he pulled back as quickly as he could.    
  
She was looking at him blankly when he came out of it, her eyes dull and glazed. Doll-like. He felt sick at the thought that it was him who had made her that way.   
  
He tried to assure himself that it was better this way, as he placed the package in her hands. Draco had been right about the consequences of too many tries, and with the way things had been shaping up, left to his own devices the spell could have torn through her. But even knowing that, Ed knew he never wanted to do that again.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out quietly.   
  
“Are you done?” Draco asked sliding his wand away.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Draco and Ed stepped aside so they weren’t in the direct line of sight of the girls as they climbed to their feet. The two of them moved slowly at first, shaking themselves slightly as if waking up before striding off, unconcerned. Neither girl so much as glanced back at them.   
  
Draco walked over to the tap splashing some water on his face in practiced motions. Smoothing his hair back, he retrieved to coat from the floor. It was almost unnerving how easily he put himself back together. Routine, systematic; Ed would have to keep an eye out for that in the future.   
  
Ed rested his hand on the edge of one of the sinks, his shoulder aching something awful. Setting his wand on the edge of the bowl, he stretched his metal limb across his body. He could feel the joint protesting, he thought something might be broken inside again. He’d probably need to take it off, Madam Pomfrey likely wouldn’t mind helping him- though to be honest, as much as he trusted her, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep silent if she was to get up close with his mutilated stumps. Confidentiality only extended so far right? How was he to say what the rules here were? A good chunk of his life had been spent with his medical records being scrutinized and filed away for reference. Privacy was almost a faint memory at this point.   
  
“Hey Ed?”   
  
“Yeah?” he said turning to Draco, “What’s up?” there was something about his voice, something off, that put him instantly put him on edge.   
  
“I’m sorry,”   
  
Ed’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of Draco’s wand aimed squarely at his face. “Drac-”   
  
_ “Immobulus.”  _   
  
Ed felt every part of his body seize up. For a moment all he could think of was that basement, surrounded by Death Eaters unable to move, unable to fight back. But then he registered it was Draco in front of him.    
  
His jaw looked almost as tight as Ed's as he slowly eased him to the group, a mocking mirror to what Ed had done minutes before to Angelina's friend. Ed's eyes flickered frantically as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong, what had changed.   
  
"I'm sorry- really, Ed, I am." Draco said straightening up, his face contorted in distress, "I wish- honestly I wish this could work. But it can't." He said seriously,  "it's too much of a risk, for both of us, for you Ed."    
  
He tried to grit something out. Anything. Anything to stop what was happening. But his jaw wouldn't move and his wand still sat mockingly on the edge of the sink.   
  
Draco cleared his throat sharply, rotating his wand in a familiar motion,  _"Obliviate."_


	16. Blank Space

...

...

...

 

They were- he was- Ed frowned as he lost his train of thought. “Sorry,” he said, meeting Draco’s expectant gaze, “I forgot what I was saying there.”

  
Draco shook his head, “It’s fine. We were getting drinks, remember?”   
  
“I- yes,” he did remember now that Draco mentioned it. Draco had been getting drinks but a fight had interrupted him. Ed had gone looking for him and hadn’t been able to find him at first because he’d stepped outside. They had discussed... Defense Against the Dark Arts? Then came back inside. They were inside now. They were ordering drinks. “Right.” Ed said as he realized he’d been spacing out, “drinks.”   
  
Draco seemed to relax some as he led them through the swell of people up to the bar.   
  
“Back again are we?” the barman asked polishing a glass behind the counter, “change your mind about that drink?”   
  
Draco tensed up, and Ed afraid he was gonna start a fight- because he was under a lot of stress… right? So he stepped up in front of the other boys to order a round of butterbeer for Draco, himself, and the girls. Ed gave a little shrug as he lay the tankards on the table in front of his housemates as they returned, “Sorry, went looking for Malfoy, turned into more of an expedition than I thought.”   
  
Blaise scoffed, “I’m shocked you found him at all, the little ferret is good at disappearing when he wants.” this comment stirred a loud laugh from Nott and a murderous glare from Draco. When Zabini realized suddenly Ed didn’t understand the joke he quickly explained with an almost manic glee about the time an old DADA teacher had turned Draco into a ferret as punishment.   
  
The conversation quickly devolved into a yelling match between Pansy and Zabini as she protested that the event hadn’t been funny in the slightest and in fact had been rather cruel. Their shouting and threats finally reached a level where the barman deserted his post to kick them out. To this, Nott took issue, and after catching the side-eyed look Lizzy was sending him, Ed snagged Draco’s arm and pulled him out of the pub to join the girls, leaving the two other boy’s to their fate.   
  
Ed was sure the barman could handle himself against the two of them easily if the altercation from earlier was anything to go by. Ed shook his head lightly as the image of the barman facing off with two much larger opponents filled his mind. But no, he hadn’t been there- that was- Ed blinked. Of course, he was just remembering what Draco had told him, remembering what Draco had told him and likely mixing it with some altercation he’d seen Ashley break up back in St. Andrews.   
  
“Ed? You good there?” Draco appeared at his side, giving him an odd look.   
  
“I- yeah, just a weird deja vu moment I think.” He replied sweeping his cowlicks away from his face.   
  
Draco hummed and began to speed up so that he was a few paces ahead of the group. “So… what was he doing?” Pansy asked quietly taking Malfoy’s place, “As much as Zabini was going on about him ditching, he… he really isn’t like that. I- I’m just worried about him.”   
  
“He was just standing outside,” Ed answered the words rolling easily off his tongue. “There was a fight, he got out of the way. When I found him we talked about Defence Against the Dark Arts.”   
  
“Oh. Alright,” she said with a frown, looking unsatisfied. After a moment of silence, she sped up. locking her arm around Draco’s even as the other boy seemed to pull into himself.   
  
Lizzy was giving him an appraising glance, her head cocked to the side, giving him the feeling she was looking straight through him.    
  
“Can I help you?” he asked, beginning to feel uneasy.   
  
“Are you… Okay?”   
  
Ed frowned, “I- Yes? Why?” But rather than answer him she only gave a quiet hum and looked away.   
  
As they got near Hogwarts Ed was surprised to see a small mob of students standing together, whispering quietly. As the group of Slytherin’s appeared a few of the kids peeled off quickly and disappeared inside. Draco seemed to pay it no mind, and while Pansy looked like she wanted to see what was going on she resolutely remained by his side. Lizzy disappeared without him noticing and he only caught a quick glimpse of her and a small black-haired first-year disappearing around a corner. Left alone, Ed fully intended to just follow Pansy and Draco back to the common room until he spotted a familiar head among the gossipers.   
  
“Neville, hey!” the kids Neville stood with froze there eyes darting between the two of them.   
  
“Oh, hi Ed.” He replied with a degree of wariness. But, Ed was pleased to see it wasn’t directed at him but the other kids around. “What’s up?”   
  
“I was hoping you could tell me,” he said.   
  
“Are you a Púca?” Piped up a girl from behind Neville, her long blonde hair nearly as pale as Draco’s but decorated with what appeared to smooth shards of multicolored glass. Her Ravenclaw robes were tied loosely around her waist like a sweatshirt leaving her in just a white button-down despite the cold.   
  
“Am I- A what?” he asked in confusion, looking between Neville and the girl. Neville just shrugged helplessly and she just smiled. “I don’t know what that is.”   
  
“Definitely a Púca then,” she said serenely with a nod, “Or,” she said looking consideringly, “Are you perchance a descendant of Circe Daughter of Helios?”   
  
“I- no. Nope. Just Ed. Uh, Neville can I have a word real quick?”   
  
“Mellifluous.” She replied, with a nod.   
  
“What?” Ed responded his eyebrows raised in confusion, “No, no- that’s not what I meant,”   
  
Neville seemed to take pity on him as the boy gave a small sigh and smiled at his friends, “You guys go on, I’ll catch up in a bit.”   
  
One of the boys with Neville, a tall dark skinned Gryffindor, narrowed his eyes at Ed, “You sure mate? We can stick around if you’d like?”   
  
“Yeah Neville,” the boy beside him piped up, his accent thicker than his friend’s, “It’s no problem, really.”   
  
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” he took a step towards Ed, “really, I’ll see you guys later.”   
  
“If you're sure?” the first boy asked, still half glaring at Ed.   
  
“I’m fine. I think I’ve shown I can handle myself.” Neville said, sounding a bit put off.   
  
Ed threw his hands up in front of himself, creating a buffer between him and the three other students, “I don’t know what you guys think is happening, but I’m not trying to hurt him.” he insisted, not sure what to do in the face of so much protective hostility.   
  
“See!” Neville said tossing his hands up, “It’s fine.” Ed found himself smiling slightly as he watched. It was nice to see Neville interacting so openly. When they’d officially met at the beginning of the year, he’d seem far less sure of himself.   
  
After the three of them disappeared reluctantly- or rather the two boys, the girl had seemed rather unaffected by his presence- Neville turned to face him. “So what’s up?”   
  
“Just what I said earlier, I wanted to know what everyone around here was whispering about. There was no need to shoo your friends off.”   
  
Neville let out a sigh, “Yeah, see, Seamus and Dean might not have been too onboard with “sharing information with the enemy” as they’d put it.”   
  
“Enemy?”   
  
“Slytherin. I mean, no offense to you, you seem decent, but things between our two houses have always been kinda messy…especially in the last few years.”   
  
Ed laughed, “Trust me, I know.”   
  
“And I mean, while I doubt you had anything to do with it… Slytherin’s are kinda the usual suspects.”   
  
“Do with what? Neville, I still don’t know what’s going on.”   
  
“Oh, right,” he shifted a little and Ed couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or due to nerves, “Well you see, Angelina- Angelina Picket, she’s in our year- she got cursed, or attacked, or something. No one seems quite sure what happened.”   
  
“Is she okay?!” Ed asked, his eyes wide. Something like dread began inexplicably pooling in his gut.   
  
“Don’t know,” Neville said quietly, his eyes downcast. “No one seems to know.”   
  
“Truth…” Ed breathed out sharply if the odd curse caught Neville’s attention it didn’t show.   
  
“I reckon we’ll have to wait for Lucy to get out of the Hospital Wing to know what happened.”   
  
“Lucy?”   
  
“Yeah, her sister. She was with her, but from what I heard she went into shock. There was no one else around, so she was just screaming and screaming until someone showed up to help. Heard it was the old man who owns the Hogshead who brought her back.” Neville pulled his jacket tight around himself, “Things are… it’s really happening again, isn’t it? I mean,” he frowned, “I knew it was, Harry’s been saying it for years now, but- I guess some part of me never thought It would reach us here. You know?”   
  
Ed hummed in agreement, though personally, he couldn’t say he’d ever felt safe in Hogwarts. “Be safe Neville,” he said quietly before peeling off back towards the Slytherin dorms.   
  
\---   
  
  
“Mr. Elric? Is something the matter?”   
  
Ed blinked rapidly as he realized that it was Professor McGonagall who had spoken. “Uh, no professor, everything's fine. Why do you ask?”   
  
She frowned, looking him over, “because you’ve been staring at Professor Dumbledore’s office door for nearly five minutes now, and don’t seem to plan on moving any time soon.”   
  
“Oh,” Ed frowned, something needling him in the back of his mind, “I must have- I guess I spaced out. That’s odd, for a second there I was sure I had something to tell him.”   
  
“Are you sure you are quite alright?”   
  
“Yes ma’am, I’m fine- just a little tired.”   
  
“Well then, be on your way now, lights out in fifteen minutes,” she said, her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down.   
  
“Right, course.” Ed shook his head lightly, “G’night ma’am.”   
  
“Goodnight Mr. Elric.”   
  
\---   
  
Draco sat in the girl's bathroom, Myrtle flitting around his head as she gossiped about students who hadn’t been in school for fifty years. She would swoop down every so often to make sure he was listening and Draco would nod, or hum, or grunt, and then she'd keep going. In reality his mind couldn’t be further away from tales of Rebecca-Laural’s-failed-love-potion-third-year, instead, his mind was caught up in the image of Angelina Pickett's pale broken body as she was taken away my med-witches to St. Mungo's.   
  
He’d gone in claiming headache, as soon as he'd heard it had all gone wrong he knew he needed to see, but by the time Madam Pomfrey had gotten to him, he thought he might be sick. It had only gotten worse when her friend- no her little sister- had seen him. She’s thrown herself out of bed at him, her fingers wrapped tightly in the jacket he still hadn’t taken off.   
  
“Draco- Draco, please! Did you see anything? Did you see who did this to her?”   
  
He’d reeled back as Madam Pomfrey rushed to the younger girls side, trying to pull her back to bed. “I- wasn’t with you when she got attacked,” he’d stuttered out in panic, “I didn’t- I couldn’t have seen anything!”   
  
“No!” she’d howled, “Not attacked! Cursed! It was the necklace, Draco! But I- don’t know where it came from. I was with her all day but I don’t know where it came from!”   
  
“Alright dear,” Madam Pomfrey said quietly, fighting the hysterical girl back under the covers, “It’s alright, its alright dear. Your sister is okay, she’s going to be okay. You just rest now, you need to rest-” The girl’s sobs cut off abruptly at the divider curtains slid shut around them.   
  
"-that right Draco?” Myrtle said her head propped up on her hands as she lay on the floor.   
  
“Quite.”   
  
She giggled, “You’re a good listener, much nicer than the other boys. No one comes to see poor Myrtle, no one but my kind Draco!”   
  
He felt sick.   
  
\---   
  
The nudging wrong feeling only seemed to grow the longer Ed tried to sleep. His head throbbed with pain as he struggled to remember what he was forgetting- if he was forgetting anything at all, perhaps the stress was just getting to him. He didn’t know.   
  
He let out a sigh as Crabbe turned noisily in his sleep, it seemed that rest wasn’t something he was going to be acquainted with tonight. Slipping out of his bed as soundlessly as possible Ed unlocked his trunk. Moving through its contents by feel, he slid out one of the books he’d purchased that afternoon after being cornered by Hermione. He hadn’t had the chance to see what it was he’d grabbed and he figured that this was as good a time as any to find out.    
  
Before he left the room, Ed glanced over his shoulder at where Malfoy lay. The other boy was curled up tight in a ball, covers twisted around him, his skin waxy and pale. Draco had come back late again. Ed wasn’t sure why that was important, just that it was.   
  
With a sigh, his swept down the staircase to the common room like a ghost, before settling himself on the couch nearest the fireplace. Even with Madam Pomfrey's help, nothing helped his limbs more than natural warmth. Madam Pomfrey- he had planned on asking her something too... Hadn’t he?   
  
Letting his head drop back against the couch's armrest, Ed picked up the book from his trunk. It was thin and tan, framed by little pictures of cauldrons and tree stumps and human hearts. Quietly he read out the title to himself.   
_   
"Tales of Beedle the Bard," _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any editing mistakes this time round, I was having computer troubles and probably missed stuff.


	17. The Conductor

It was a children's book. A weird ass children’s book to be sure, but kids book nonetheless. Ed couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face as his flipped through the book absently. He wondered what it would have been like to grow up like this, tucked away in Hohenheim's manor, Al and he curled up around Babbity Rabbity and the Hopping Pot, their family together and whole, instead of roaming the country alone on a nearly impossible quest for reparations.   
  
Ed let out a low sigh. He’d long ago accepted his lot in life, it was only fair punishment for what he’d done after all, but he couldn't help but sometimes feel a little envious of others. He flipped to the next page, his fingers sliding along the worn yellowing sheets. The book was artfully made, bound by hand or magic he couldn't tell, but there was no mistaking the hand inked and raised headers that adorned the start of each chapter. It reminded him of the ancient Xerxian books he'd flipped through as a child, and he found himself lost in the designs as he ghosted through the parchment. Ed came to a halt several stories in on an oddly monotone page.   
  
_ The Tale of the Three Brothers _   
  
Ed frowned, running a finger across the raised header of the chapter, tapping on the odd triangle symbol. He recognized it, vaguely, somehow. It wasn’t anything that he could place, but it tugged on something in his mind. He bit his lip, he couldn’t remember what it was, but he began to read.    
  
__ Three brothers, traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight reached a deep treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown…   
  
Ed frowned as the story continued, he had no recollection of having heard it before, and yet there was something oddly compelling about it and he read on.   
  
_...Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeded to award them with gifts of their own choosing… _   
  
Ed became aware of how quiet the room was. The distant ticking of a wall clock became oppressive and suffocating, he felt a pit growing in his gut.   
  
_...The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river… _   
  
The nudging was back, something- something he’d seen? Something he’d read?   
  
_...Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother walked to an inn not far from the dueling site...Taken by his lust for the Elder Wand's power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility... _   
  
Read. It had to be, he was sure of it. But where? At Hohenheim's estate? The vault? Grimmauld Place?   
  
_...The unknown murderous wizard crept to the inn as the eldest brother slept, drunk from wine. The wizard slit the oldest brother’s throat for good measure and stole the wand... _   
  
Not Hoenheim’s or his vault, the old bastard didn’t care for fairy tales. The books he owned were for research, dedicated to the study of magic. So it had to be the Black’s then… or the Flamel’s, the Rosier’s? No. The Black’s he was sure of it.   
  
__...Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals.   
  
Ed closed the book around his hand, dropping his head back against the armrest. A loud snap sent him jack knifing upward whirling around the room. Ed’s sudden movement brought about a little cry of fright. A small house elf stood looking up at him with wide eyes, a small, blue, knit hat, balanced between his large ears.   
  
“My apologies Sir, Dobby thought everyone was in their rooms. Dobby will come back later-”   
  
“-Wait!” Ed flinched as the words left his mouth, sounding terribly loud in the quiet of the common room. The little elf froze, his fingers raised mid-snap.   
  
“Is there something Dobby could do for you Sir?” he asked curiously, watching Ed with a surprising amount of wary forwardness. It surprised him, it had taken him ages to get Amah to do so much as look him in the eyes, but this little elf held himself with a sense of purpose and confidence he’d never seen from a house elf before. “Perhaps a warm milk to help sir back to sleep?”   
  
“I- sorry,” The elf's eyes widened a bit as the word slipped from his lips, “I didn’t mean to send you off. You can- clean if you want? I just, couldn’t sleep- I can get out of your way.”   
  
“No, no sir!” Dobby said shaking his head at him, “I would never think to run sir off!”   
  
“Edward. I’m Edward, not sir- just Edward Elric,”   
  
Dobby nodded considering, “You are not much like your fellows are you, Edward Elric?”   
  
Ed’s lips twitched, “I’m not sure. That old hat seems to think I am.”   
  
But almost before Ed was finished speaking Dobby was shaking his head back an forth, “No sir, you are kind to take time to speak to Dobby. Not many would do such a thing.”   
  
Ed relaxed back on to the couch, “Dobby, that’s just human decency.”   
  
“Then there are not many decent humans.” Dobby froze, bringing a little hand up to his mouth, shaking a bit. “Forgive me, sir, forgive Dobby, he did not mean to offend. Dobby is sorry sir, Dobby is-”   
  
“Hey, hey! Easy there,” Ed said putting up his hands, “It’s okay Dobby, you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to do anything.”   
  
Dobby froze, “Even still, Dobby apologizes.”   
  
Ed let out a sigh, at least the little elf hadn’t jumped to self-injury the way Amah was prone to at any perceived slight. “You’re forgiven Dobby.”   
  
The elf seemed to relax again, the inexplicable compulsion dealt with. “Is sir- Edward Elric, sure he does not need anything from the kitchens?”   
  
“I- yeah, I’m fine.” Ed frowned, a sudden thought occurred to him, “Dobby?”   
  
“Yes, Edward Elric?” he perked up, his ears twitching in a manner that threatened to send his little hat tumbling off his head.   
  
“Have you ever hear of The Tale of the Three Brothers?”    
  
It was like someone had stepped on the little elves grave. “I- yes, sir.”   
  
“Are you alright?”   
  
“Of course sir, Dobby has just not heard such a story for a long time now. Yes sir, not for years now. Not since Dobby worked for-” his jaw snapped shut as he swayed slightly.   
  
Ed squatted down in concern, worried he was about to topple over. “Yes? Since you worked for whom?”   
  
“I-” Dobby shook his head, seemingly snapping out of whatever daze held him. “Since Dobby worked for the Malfoy’s sir,” he stated with determination.   
  
“The Malfoy’s? Draco’s family?” Ed blinked, “They tell it as a bedtime story or something? Somehow I don’t see Narcissa and Lucius as the type.”   
  
The little elf shook his head, “No sir, not a bedtime story. A lesson.”   
  
“A lesson? About what?”   
  
Dobby leaned forward till his long pointed nose nearly scrapped Ed’s face, “The Deathly Hallows” he whispered, his eyes widening and darting around the room as if afraid to be overheard.   
  
“The Deathly Hallows, what are those?” he asked, the pull in his gut growing stronger. This, this was what he’d been missing, he was sure of it!   
  
“One,” Dobby said, his voice barely above a whisper as he began to rock again, “The Elder Wand; unbeatable in the hand of its master. Two, the Resurrection Stone; recalling loved ones from the grave. Three,” he hand was shaking badly as he raised a third finger, The Cloak of Invisibility; hiding the user even from Death himself! Together, one is the Master of Death.”   
  
“The Master of Death? I know the other things from the story, but I don't know what that is,”   
  
“No, no! Not a story.” Dobby said shaking his head frantically, “History. That’s what Master- Mr. Malfoy says. History. He says they are real, Dobby has heard him so!”   
  
Ed froze, something dawning on him suddenly. He rose to his feet slowly, eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance. “Dobby, forgive me. But I think I shall return to bed now.”   
  
“Oh- oh, yes sir. Right sir.” The elf sounded shaken still, but Ed couldn’t bring himself to look. His mind had left his body, and he hardly felt it as his feet carried him up the stairs. Could it really be? Could it be something as simple as an item from a fairy tale? No, not a fairy tale, history. He was certain that was the truth.    
  
An unbeatable wand soaked in the blood of all it’s previous owners… it couldn’t be anything else…    
  
It was what he’d been looking for, his conductor.   
  
\---   
  
Draco watched Ed over his goblet as he ate. The other blond’s head was buried deep in a massive book, his eyes lined with dark bags. He hadn’t been sleeping lately. Draco had awoken in the middle of the night more than once in the past week to find Ed’s bed empty and he couldn’t help but feel guilty about any part in that he may have played. He wondered if he hadn’t cast the spell strong enough, or if perhaps his reluctance had made its hold weaker. If his failure had filled Ed with a sense of wrong.   
  
He'd seen it before. Over the summer Aunt Bellatrix had made him practice on a Muggle man who'd seen too much. The first time he'd tried, the spell had been too weak. He'd caught the man in the garden days later, driven there by an indescribable compulsion, an understanding that something was off in a way he simply couldn't comprehend.    
  
Draco still felt he’d done the right thing, his mission was supposed to be accomplished by him and him alone, he couldn’t imagine the Dark Lord would be forgiving of such a deviation. That didn’t help the odd pit in his gut when he caught those odd moments where Ed’s eyes went a little too blank. It had lessened over the past few days, with no new information about the “attack” the Hogwarts rumor mill had all but dried up, bringing the daily reminders of the incident to almost zero. No one, it seemed, suspected him. Except perhaps Lizzy, she would never accuse him of anything, but he saw it in her eyes when she looked at him. He didn’t think she knew about the necklace, but he was almost certain she knew about Ed. Who else would have passive-aggressively left a medical journal warning against the dangers of repeated obliviation on his bed? Who else would have dared?   
  
Almost as if summoned, Lizzy seated herself across from him, Pansy half asleep nuzzled under her arm. She didn’t say anything, but there was no missing the appraising way she looked him up and down, as she had been since they'd gotten back from Hogsmeade.    
  
“Whatcha’ read’n Eddie?” Pansy murmured craning her neck to look over the boy’s shoulder but not properly opening her eyes.   
  
Ed grunted in return, not dismissively, just showing how far removed mentally he was from the rest of them.   
  
“That's nice,” she breathed out as she let her head drop to the table.   
  
Blaise nudged his shoulder harshly, and Draco shot him an ugly glare. “What?” he demanded.   
  
The other boy’s lips twitched upwards as he raised his eyebrows suggestively, “What you think they were up to last night? Eh Draco?”   
  
“Fuck off,” Draco said shoving the boy away as Pansy moaned out “Stuuuudying,”   
  
Lizzy dropped her head back looking at the ceiling as if it held all the answers, “It wouldn’t have taken that long Pans’ if you’d have gotten around to doing it when I told you to.”   
  
Pansy let out a small groan, “Charms. Fricken. Sucks.”   
  
“Whatever you say, dear.”   
  
Draco turned his head away from their banter as he scanned the dining hall, freezing as he saw Potter’s eyes fixed firmly in his direction. But, on further consideration, he realized that it wasn’t actually him the Gryffindor was looking at. No, he was looking at Ed, and he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.   
  
“Hey Elric,” Nott says jostling the boy, drawing a small growl out of the Alchemist as he lost his place, “I think Potter wants to fuck you.”   
  
Ed looked up from his book slowly, “...what.”   
  
Nott just grunted, jutting his chin Potter’s direction. Ed turned slowly giving the other boy an appraising look, before turning back to his book. “I don’t know who you’ve been sleeping with Nott, but I’ve seen warmer looks on people who’ve actually tried to kill me.”   
  
Nott floundered for a moment. “Didn’t know Garrow was the bedroom eye type.” He grunted.   
  
Ed shook his head, “Nah, he looked like he wanted me to take a long hard fall from a cliff, the moment I met him,” He flipped his page absentmindedly, “People trying to off me is much more of a prevailing issue in my life than I thought it was going to be.”   
  
Nott didn’t know how to respond to that and Ed took that as permission to return to his book wholeheartedly.   
  
\---   
  
Ed was sitting in Slughorn’s class later in the day, his automail arm tingling slightly in a way unrelated to the cold. They had been paired off today, meaning that Ed had been working while Nott had been none too subtly sabotaging other nearby groups. Ed thought it was a shame really, they were in an advanced potions class after all, so Nott clearly must have some skills even if he preferred to spend his time hurling spells at unsuspecting Gryffindors. They were the third group done, beaten out by Harry and Ron as well as Hermione and a Ravenclaw. Ed probably could have made it through the class with a bit more efficiency had he not been so distracted.   
  
The Deathly Hallows were a strangely elusive subject. Most reading materials held little more than a passing mention to them, and generally as an idea rather than anything of fact. Because of the connotation of being “Master of Death” he found that books that dealt with more taboo topics were more likely to include allusions to them, but as Hogwarts was a school, even their books on the taboo did little more than tell a reader that something was taboo. What he really needed was a proper library, one without censorship. He supposed it was possible Hohenheim's place could have something on the subject, but with Amah sent away to Olivia in hiding, he’d have to wait until Christmas break to retrieve them. The other two libraries he could think to help, the Black’s and the Malfoy’s, were also both out of his reach at the moment.   
  
“Very good!” Ed snapped to as Slughorn addressed the class, “very well done everyone! You are all shaping up to be quite the batch of potioneers.” only half the class seemed to be listening, everyone else already shouldering their bags and beginning to shuffle towards the classroom door.   
  
Muttered bouts of, “Evening Professor,” “Night,” “See you tomorrow,” drowned out anything further that Slughorn might have wanted to say.   
  
“Night Professor,” Ed said with a nod as he passed, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.   
  
“A word Mr. Elric, if you would?”   
  
“Uh, sure, supposed so,” Ed said, adjusting his bag as he followed Slughorn to his desk. Ed watched as the last of his classmates left the room as Slughorn dug for something within the dark wood drawers of his desk.   
  
“This is for you Mr. Elric,” he said placing a thick card in his hand.   
  
“Sir?”   
  
“It’s just a little get together for the Christmas season, a collection of promising students all sharing a meal together. I do believe you’re friends with Mr. Zabini? Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger from class are also invited to attend.”   
  
“Oh- um, thank you, sir, I’m honored.”   
  
Slughorn gave a little laugh, “No trouble my boy! No trouble at all! And, you are more than welcome to bring a friend along with you. A handsome young man such as yourself must have a young lady friend you’d like to spend the evening with?”   
  
Ed gave him a tight smile. Flamel would want him to go, so would Mustang, probably Greed as well. “Connections make the world go round after all”, but it would waste an evening that he could be studying, researching a way to get himself home, locating the Elder Wand. But looking into Slughorn’s eyes he could see it wasn’t a request, not really. It was easy to forget sometimes that the jovial man in front of him was just as much a Slytherin as the rest. He knew, logically, that as a school teacher there was very little he could do by means of punishment for turning down the invite, but he had an unsettling feeling that being on Slughorn's bad side was a very chilly place to be indeed.   
  
“I’d be delighted to attend Sir.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about missing last week, school deadlines became a thing. I hope everyone had a good and safe Halloween! Here, about the second it became Nov 1st it started to snow... so now there are Christmas carols.  
> See you in the next one!


	18. Suspicions

Harry poked at the fire flickering away in the house hearth, his head full, and his eyes firmly fixed on the middle distance. It was storming something awful outside and He’d been forced to call practice early and let the team swarm back inside and into the warmth. Hermione and Ron were back at each other’s throats again, and Harry had retreated downstairs to escape Ron’s ranting.

He more felt than heard the portrait hole swing open behind him, but it was the loud thumps and mild muttering that told him who’d just entered the room. “‘Lo Neville,” he said raising his hand, “might want to wait a bit before going up, Ron’s pitching a bit of a fit.

“Oh, ‘lo Harry,” he said, coming around the edge of the sofa to warm his hands at the fire. “Practice not go so well?”

“Nah, it’s practically hellish out there. Too many new people on the team for me to feel comfortable letting them fly in that.” he moved to the side to give Neville a place to sit, “What were you doing? I figured you’d be here doing homework.”

“Needed to pick up a book in the library, ran into Ed- a friend, and he gave me a couple recommendations,” Neville said raising the stack of books in his arms that had been giving him trouble as he entered.

“Ed?” Harry frowned, “Edward Elric?”

Neville shifted uncomfortably “Well, yes I suppose.”

“Didn’t know you knew him.” Harry paused a moment, “how’d you end up friends with a Slytherin?”

“We ran into each other earlier this year, helped him get his stuff back from the Weeping Willow. I think he’s rather nice.”

“Nice?” Harry asked incredulously, nice was not the first thing that came to mind when he thought of the blond.

“He's always been nice to me,” Neville said rather weakly, “and I’ve never seen him say an unkind thing to anyone-well,” he hesitated, “to anyone, not in Slytherin. Which, I’m not sure what that says about me, that I wouldn't count that.”

“Don’t worry Neville,” Harry said, “I think that’s almost universal.”

“How do-?” Neville cut himself off.

“What?”

The other boy frowned, fixing Harry with a look, “Well I was just wondering how you knew him. I mean, there was that whole incident with that other Slytherin boy, and you said Edward kept him from falling- but now you seemed surprised that I said he was nice? I just- I wondered if there was something else, some reason you don’t like him?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond before suddenly realizing he hadn’t the faintest clue what to say. How did he feel about Ed? Ed was… Ed was… what was Ed? Sirius had been fond of him- more than fond really, and Lupin seemed to share his godfather's sentiment about the blond. He’d come to help that night in the Department of Mysteries, he’d saved the prophecy, which Dumbledore told him the Order had retrieved from Ed’s hiding spot, he’d saved Neville even if Neville didn’t know it. But then Sirius had died, Sirius had died saving Ed and Ed had just left.

Ed had vanished for months, seemingly into thin air. Dumbledore it seemed, had some way of contacting him, he’d been invited to Hogwarts after all, but no one else seemed aware of where he’d been. And then, upon his reappearance, he’d come back as a Slytherin. Harry didn’t know what to make of any of that.

Neville was right about one thing though, he hadn’t let Garrow fall. Garrow had been trying to kill him, kill Harry, and he’d held him up. But what if… whispered that cynical part of his mind. What if he’d only saved him because he couldn’t afford there to be an investigation? Couldn’t afford to be carefully watched? Harry batted the thought away, it was stupid.

“I mean I don’t know what happened between you two,” Harry heard Neville start up again, “But the other day, when Angelina was hurt? He seemed really concerned.”

Harry blinked, “Did he know her?”

“No,” Neville shook his head, “I don’t think so. He just really wanted to know what had happened, I told him I didn’t know, that we’d have to wait until Lucy got out of the hospital wing to really know what had gone on. That’s right! He didn’t even know she had a sister, so I doubt he knew her beforehand.”

Something nudged in the back of his mind. “Has she? Left the hospital wing I mean? I haven’t heard anything new.”

“Yeah, on Thursday,” Neville said, “She doesn’t really remember.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked slowly.

“Shock, I suppose. She said she doesn’t remember any attack, but I don’t see what else it could be. Granted, she could have remembered more since, but she hasn’t been up for talking much.”

“Of course,” he said quietly, a picture he didn’t like much beginning to form in his mind.

“Right well,” Neville said after Harry let the conversation fall into dead silence, “I’ll be heading upstairs now, hopefully, Ron’s settled.”

Even as Neville left, shooting a look over his shoulder at Harry who’d given little more than a grunt in response to his words, he couldn't shake the ugly thought in his mind. _Because Ed wouldn’t-_ wouldn’t attack some random girl. Wouldn’t use Neville for information and then go back to obliviate witnesses. _No,_ It didn’t seem logical. He was just tired.

Harry couldn’t reconcile the image of someone Sirius cared for with someone who would do something like that. And yet, the thought persisted.

The next morning Harry could hardly draw his eyes from Ed’s back from where he sat across the dining hall, head buried deep in a large book. Hermione and Ginny tried numerous times to draw him into a conversation, but nothing seemed to hold his attention long.

“Okay then Harry, spill,” Ginny finally snapped when Harry drifted away halfway through their conversation, “What’s got your head all tied up in knots?”

“It’s that fucking Alchemist bloke,” mumbled Seamus his mouth stuffed full of food, “The one who came sliding up to Neville the other day.” Harry shot him a look, moving to correct him before Seamus cut him off, “I’m not blind mate, you’ve been burning a hole through the back of his head all meal.”

“So Ed then,” Ginny jumped in, keeping Harry from any objection. “What’s up? He do something?”

Harry frowned, “That’s just the thing, I don’t know.”

Ginny gave him a long look, “Harry Potter, I love you, this you know, but you can’t go around suspecting everyone just because you “don’t know” if they’ve done something.”

“Really Harry,” Hermione said quietly, “I know you don’t trust him, but he hasn’t really- well, done anything, has he?”

“I mean-” Interjected Seamus swallowing, “Even I think it’s weird though,”

“What?”

“Well I mean, Malfoy,” he said with a wave of his hand, “Him and his whole group. They haven't really changed as long as we’ve been here. They all have the same ideas, and they’ve got that whole Death Eaters Jr. thing going on- with their little roles and everything. I mean, Malfoy’s the leader, Parkinson is his girl, Crabbe and Goyle are the muscle, Zabini is… also there. Sometimes.”

“What about Harris?” Ginny asked, her arms crossed, “and Bulstrode?”

Seamus shrugged, “Okay, so maybe the metaphor thing doesn’t work completely, but my point stands.”

“Which is?

“That group hasn’t changed since First-Year, but then, out of the blue, Blondy shows up and we’ve got ourselves a new member.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying, he’s got to offer something. He has to bring something to the table they couldn’t get before, else they wouldn’t let him run with them.

“Or,” Dean said, speaking up for the first time, drawing Ed’s gaze to him, “I don’t know, but, maybe, someone else put him there.”

“Put him there?” Hermione asked leaning forward with interest, “what do you mean?”

“Well, it’s like Seamus was saying, that group, they’re inseparable. I reckon they’ve known each other for a long time. I mean, that’s a thing with you Purebloods isn’t it?” he asked, directing his question to Ginny.

“Suppose so,” she said with a nod.

“So- I mean, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Elric is always rather separate from them. Not separate as in apart, but like, mentally not with them- maybe, they didn’t become friends on their own, they could have been introduced.”

“So they know each other outside of school, what’s that matter?” Ron asked.

“Well just, Neville I think it was, he mentioned he was an apprentice before this-”

“-yeah, to Nicholas Flamel,” Harry said with a nod.

“Well, Flamel, he’s dead right? That’s why he’s here now?”

“He died a few months before school began,” Hermione confirmed.

“So he’s been what? On his own for months? Even if he went back to his family after, he wouldn’t know anyone coming into the school. He’s got the prestige- trained by Nicholas Flamel himself! It makes sense folk like the Malfoy’s would want him nearby.” Dean paused, “I just mean, I see why. When I came to Hogwarts, I didn’t know anyone, didn’t even know I was a wizard till a few months prior. I’m glad it was you lot that I met, but I think, that if it had been someone else, even someone worse I’m not sure I would have been able to turn down an offer of friendship.” he paused, “hell I doubt I’d have been able to turn down an acquaintanceship.”

The table grew quiet.

Harry found his eyes turned back to Ed, after a few moments his back shifted and Harry found his green eyes meeting Ed’s bright gold. The look the boy gave him was evaluating, his eyes tracking him up and down. For a moment, Harry was sure he was going to speak, but nothing. The boy turned around again and said something to his companions, going about as if the last moment had never occurred.

\---

Mykew Gregorovitch. It was a name that kept coming up over and over again in relation to powerful wands. At first, Ed had dismissed it, the man himself was a wandmaker so he figured they were little more than posturing, rumors to entice buyers. But the more and more he was mentioned, the more suspicious he became.

Ed’s first instinct was to write to Mr. Ollivander and see what he made of such whispers, but the old wandmaker was still missing. And, if rumors were to be believed, his disappearance was hardly of his own volition.

Instead, Ed changed gears. He began to investigate wandlore, core, and wood types, whether power was dictated by the wizard or the wand, anything to discover if the claims made by Gregorovitch and others about him could be verified. He was a talented man, if there was a chance his wand was just expertly made and not the one of legend, Ed wanted to know.

Elder was a symbol of death and sorrow, but also of regeneration and transformation. He found it described as a fickle and fierce wood, opinionated and very hard to bond with, for that reason wandmakers seemed to shy away from it in their own work. But, they all seemed to hold a fascination with it. One that was held beyond professional curiosity and Ed couldn’t help but wonder if the legendary Elder Wand was responsible for this.

The connotations of elder wood felt very fitting for something that could be used as a conductor in an Alchemical ritual, and Ed began looking into core types that could continue along with such an idea. Phoenix feathers held the same hard-won loyalty and the large power range, which fit, but phoenix feathers felt too common a core, a combination too easy to replicate even by accident. Coral wands were rarer and they had the fluid adaptable nature that would work well with Alchemy, but they didn’t have much in the way of longevity which made him think the wand couldn’t have survived this long.

There was one, however, that stood out from all the others. Thestral hair. Taken from a creature only seen by those who had witnessed death, Thestral hair was almost impossible to work with, and was thought by some wandmakers to only respond to those who filled the qualifications to see the creature. Rumor of an unbeatable wand would have drawn dark attention, as it had for the first brother. If it had been taken bloodlessly, and the wand hadn’t worked for its new owner, it made sense that murder as a qualifier was now woven into its lore. 

And, thought Ed to himself, If it was only witnessing death that allowed one to wield the wand, It meant that Ed wouldn’t have to pay the price when he found whoever possessed it. He took a moment to consider it, consider finding the wand, only to discover that it was useless to him unless he killed the previous owner. It was a daunting thing to dwell on, and he found himself thinking back on Miles before everything had gone to shit in the mines, on his “for the greater good attitude.”

“For the greater good,” Ed mumbled, letting his head fall back against the library shelves.

“Now there, Mr. Elric!” Madam Price’s voice hit him like an electrical shock to the spine, “I will have none of that talk in here!”

The pinched faced librarian looked absolutely furious, “I- I’m sorry miss, I didn’t mean to-” he stuttered out jumping to his feet, unsure of what he’d actually done.

“You of all people should know better! Muttering something like that, now of all times!”

Ed reeled away to get away from her accusing finger, he didn’t understand. “I think- I think there has been a misunderstanding!” he said throwing his hands up, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just remembering a friend of mine-”

She stiffened considerably, her hands thudding to her sides as she pointed her chin upward. “Well then Mr. Elric, I advise you find yourself some better friends. I will have no such nonsense in my library. I think it’s time you get to bed.” Ed opened his mouth to apologize, he really didn’t understand what he’d done. He hadn’t meant to anger her, not by a long shot, and now he wasn’t quite sure what he was meant to do. So, at a loss for words, Edward scooped up his discarded books and shuffled towards the libraries exit, Madam Price’s eyes boring a hole in his back the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is up late (early? it's like 12:30 where I am), I fell asleep while editing.
> 
> Also, since Flamel is set to appear in the new Fantastic Beasts movie, this fic has somehow managed to become even less canon than it already was!


	19. Memory

It was mid-November before the next Hogsmeade visit came around. Ed had been, while not quite avoiding the library… reluctant to re-enter. He still wasn’t sure what he’d done to offend Madam Price and didn’t want to risk destroying their relationship further. So, when Ed had seen the notice on the board he was eager to depart. Ed had his plans firmly fixed on the small bookstore he’d purchased Tales of Beedle the Bard from on his last visit, and as such, may have been a bit harsh in turning Pansy down for drinks if the look Lizzy had shot him was anything to judge by.

Draco too had waved off the invitation, stating that he fully intended to stay back at the castle. His words almost prompted Pansy to volunteer to stay back with him, but he quickly explained that he planned to spend the time sleeping and, a combination of his words and the way Lizzy’s hand tightened around hers seemed to convince her otherwise.  
The five of them, Pansy, Lizzy, Zabini, Nott and himself, went their separate ways in the village square. Crabbe and Goyle had found themselves landed in detention again somehow in the five minutes they weren’t trailing after Draco like a shadow.

The village snow had been smashed down underfoot, much of it had become a murky brown mixed with needles from the forest. The excitement of new snow had all but died away. People hurried from point to point with their heads down, no longer stopping to marvel at the world around them, having become disillusioned with the season, thanks to the persisting cold. While his stumps didn’t hurt as much as they normally would have, he was not without discomfort, the cold winter air chapping and drying his skin painfully with every gust of wind. It was with no small amount of relief that he pushed into the store he’d been aiming for.

The bell gave a gentle ring as he stepped inside and Ed breathed in the familiar smell of well-worn books. There were very few patrons inside and Ed felt relief sweep over him that among them there was no bushy haired Gryffindor. Ed placed his starting point where he’d pulled the books from last time, and began to spiral outward adding books on wandlore and theory to his arms as he went.

“You looking for anything in particular?” came a voice over his shoulder, nearly causing Ed to jump- he’d been so engrossed in his thoughts. It was a young shop worker, probably three or four years older than him, his arms filled with his own tower of books. Without his hands to push them up, his glasses had migrated down his nose, curls of dark brown hair wrapping around the frames.

“Uh,” He frowned, he could hardly tell the man he was looking for potentially banned books, “Not really anything specific, just looking for something interesting to read. I’ve picked over a good bunch of the books back at school, I just need something new.”

The man shook his head in excited agreement, “Totally, ran into that same problem back in the day. My folks are Muggle’s so it wasn’t like they could send me more from home, I ended up resorting to talking to the ghosts for more information.”

“Wow,” Ed said, “you’ve covered more ground than I have then. I just really needed a change of pace from all the academic text.”

“No, no, I get that too. But, when I was a kid I was so desperate to know anything I could about the wizarding world that I would have read just about anything.” Ed gave a little laugh, he’d done the same thing after all. “Well,” the man frowned, “I don’t know how much it would interest you, but I’ve got a whole bunch of unsorted books in the back, new donations and such, plus some books that we don’t really keep out front for content reasons.”

“I’d love too!” Ed exclaimed, almost taken aback by his own enthusiasm.

The worker’s eyes lit up, “Great!” he said, shifting his books to one arm, his dark limb tensing under the load. “I’m Jack,” he said sticking out his other arm towards Ed, “Jack Blair,”

“Edward Elric,” he said accepting the handshake warmly, though careful to keep his automail light enough not to hurt Jack’s hand. Ed trailed after the man, trying to tamp down the feeling of excitement in his gut. Jack paused a couple of times to shelve the books he was carrying, shaking out his arms as he placed the last clothbound tome in its proper place.

“Right, this way,” he said directing Ed with his head. The backroom was bigger than was physically possible, stretching as far as the eye could see, leaving him with no idea how one didn’t get lost within. “Most of that is intake, I can’t even touch it until our resident curse breaker goes over them,” he said answering Ed’s unspoken question. “We get a lot of stuff from estates, people who inherit things from parents and aunts and uncles who they hardly know. Old families tend to accumulate a lot of stuff over the centuries, often times the beneficiary doesn’t know how to cope with the sheer volume of it all.” He unlocked a side door nestled between shelves, “That’s how I met my partner actually, they donated a bunch of manuscripts only to find out that some of that stuff was actually important, Luckily," Jack said, as he flipped on the light of the room they’d just entered, “We keep a record of who donated what for as long as anything is in the shop,”

“That’s good,” Ed replied absently as he took in the mountains of semi-sorted books of varying size and age. The whole place reminding him terribly of Sheska’s house.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, rolling up his sleeves as he settled himself on the floor. “We’ve had too many cases of people getting revenge on each other by donating each others family heirlooms.”

“Family Heirlooms? I thought this was just a bookstore?”

“Sure, this place is. But we’ve got other fronts around for other things.”

“Ah. Of course,” Ed sighed, every time he thought he’d gotten his head wrapped around magic, something else came along to remind him he hadn’t even scratched the surface.

“So!” Jack said, clapping his hands together and sending a puff of dust into the air, “What are you interested in? General, “non-academic”, or do you have something more specific?”

“Well,” Ed gave a laugh, as he pulled lightly on his braid, “This is kinda odd, but I was talking to a house elf, and anyways we started talking about the Elder Wand. just kinda, debating if it could be real or not.”

“A house elf?” Jack said in surprise.”

“Yeah,” Ed shook his head lightly, my roommate was snoring and I couldn’t get to sleep so I was down in the common room when he came in to clean.”

“Huh,” Jack said, his brows raised, “I wonder if they just clean later in the Ravenclaw dorm because they know how many people are down there cramming at three in the morning on an average night. I- I noticed your scarf, “Jack said gesturing towards his own throat, prompting Ed to look down at the green and silver garment draped over his brown coat. “Though I will say, without it I probably would have mistaken you for one of mine.”

Ed cocked his head to the side, “you brought up being muggleborn around me even though you knew I was a Slytherin?”

Jack gave a little shrug, his lips quirking into a smile, “Bit of a litmus test there, sorry.” Ed couldn’t find it in himself to feel offended, and Jack began labeling off what each of the stacks was grouped by. “So, what have you looked into so far?”

“Mostly wandlore, see if it was even possible to make a wand like that.”

Jack hummed, “I’d say yes, all sorts of wands have neat little tricks and quirks with them. It can make them a bit unpredictable though, so people generally either love or hate that. Like, Rougarou hair has an almost unnatural attraction to dark magic, Veela hair is good for illusion spell work, and Thunderbird wands have been known to perform magic on their own.”

Ed felt his own wand in his pocket like a thorn in his side, Ollivander had never mentioned that.

“I think you might want to look into people that have been suspected to hold the wand in the past.”

“So,” Ed said with a frown, releasing his wand from the hold he’d had it in, “Do I just scour history books for powerful wizards that met a violent end?”

“I mean, sure, you could do that. But,” he grinned, “lucky for you, hunting the Elder Wand is practically some peoples life goal. I have it here somewhere…” he said, climbing to his feet opening and closing drawers in his search. “Ah!” he gave the book a solid flick and hurried back over to Ed’s side, “The boss got this here a few years back at an auction, normally it would have been processed by now, but it needed some restoration work and most of it’s written in code. It’s a nice novelty find, but it doesn’t hold much interest for the casual browser.”

“Can I?” he asked extending a hand hesitantly. Jack dropped the book into his hand and Ed began to card through it lightly. It was handwritten, more of a journal than a book from the looks of it, filled with lists and a couple drawings of wands scattered throughout. The writing did appear to be in code like Jack had said, and in an odd mix of German and English for that matter, but it was closer to a lead than he’d had when he’d come here. “Any clue what it says?”

“Honestly? Not really. The boss used to be into this stuff, the Deathly Hallows and such, and he tried his best at it, but near as he could tell it was a list of potential owners, but I couldn’t tell you anything else.”

Ed’s grip tightened around the small object, “how much?”

Jack shrugged, “on the house, it’s just collecting dust in here. It could be years before anyone shows an interest, and if it’s out front it’ll just be taking up the space of a book someone might actually want.” Ed looked at him with shock, pulling the book back towards his body as if he expected it to be yanked away from him. “On one condition though,”

Ed stiffened as Jack raised a finger of pause, “what?”

“If you do figure it out, what it says, come back and tell me, yeah?”

“Deal,” Ed grinned and shook the man's hand for the second time that day. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad as he left the room though, the chances that he’d ever be able to pass that information on seemed slim at best.

He followed Jack back through the store and out the front, the journal tucked safely away in his pocket. A glance down at his watch told him he still had time to spare until it was time to return to the castle, so he let his feet carry him through the village, his head occupied, swimming away with theories about what his new find could contain. He landed in front of The Three Broomsticks, retreading the path of his last visit into town.

Ed paused in the snow out front, his brow scrunching with confusion. He tilted his head at an angle as he viewed the pub, almost as if looking at it in a different way could quell the unease building in his gut. All the warmth and excitement from earlier was gone as he took a few steps closer to the pub door.

It was wrong.

It was all he could think as he took in the sight before him. The doorway was wrong.

The entrance before him was covered, extending outward from the building. It was an architectural choice that was mimicked by most of the village surrounding him. And the strangest thing was, he could remember walking under it, remember the feeling of stepping out of the snow as he entered the pub with Draco… But when he remembered the longest amount of time he’d been outside the pub, talking with Draco about- Defence Against the Dark Arts, his mind supplied- he didn’t remember a covered entrance.

Ed took a wary step forward, feeling the strangest sense of Deja vu as he pushed the door open. He’d done this before, but that made his memories incompatible. Ed walked up to the bar slowly taking in the room around him. He remembered the girls sitting by the door, Angelina, the girl who’d been attacked- But… Ed paused, how did he know that?

“Can I get you something son?” the barkeeper asked, polishing a glass. Ed tore his attention away from the table across the room.

“Yes. Sorry, this is kinda an odd question.”

The man laughed, “I doubt it’ll even be the strangest thing I hear all night, ask away kid,”

“I was in here the other day, and I- I was wondering if the entrance to the pub is new?”

The man cocked his head to the side, “How’d you mean?”

“Like, did it use to not be covered?”

“Nope,” he said with a shrug, “Sorry, far as I know its always been that way,”

“Right,” Ed muttered as he pushed off the bar, “Sorry,”

“Don’t sweat it, and I mean, if you’re looking for a pub with a flat front, you could just be remembering the Hogshead down the way,” He said, jutting his chin further down the road.

“Course, sorry, that’s exactly what I’ve done,” Ed said with a shaky laugh as backed out of the pub. His hands shook lightly and he could feel his heart rate increases as he stepped outside. He tried to rationalize it as a simple mistake, but he knew deep down that couldn’t be it. His head began to pound as he leaned back against the pub wall. He didn’t have perfect recall, not like Sheska, but his situational awareness was exceptional. It had to be with the life he lived. At first something like the type of front a building had seemed unimportant, but if you applied it to an understanding of the terrain, of where your cover was…

He felt sick. Stumbling upright, Ed turned and made his way quickly down the street the way the barman had directed him. He had to see, he had to check.

It was.

Ed froze taking in the sight before him. It was the front he remembered, but Ed knew for a fact that he’d never been this far down before. It was impossible, impossible unless...

Ed whirled around on his heels, setting his sights on the castle. The needling pressure in the back of his mind that had persisted for weeks returned in full force. He needed to have word with Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, so I'm getting on a plane about an hour, and won't be around my computer for about a week and a half. So definitely no chapter next week, and probably no chapter the week after that. Thanks for your patience.


	20. Mediation

Albus’s hand moved, creating smooth loops across the parchment as he addressed the letter to the president of MACUSA. It was a response he'd regretfully meant to send days ago but had been postponed by more pressing matters. Around him, the quiet bickering of portraits created white noise shaping an environment well suited for writing.

A good portion of the student body was away at Hogsmeade at the moment, and without the Weasley Twins still in attendance, the chance of a random explosion upon the student’s return was at the very least, ten percent lower than it had been the previous year. By all accounts, the school year had been miraculously quiet, though his worries had been no less pressing. Tom’s Horcruxes and Harry’s private lessons took up a large part of his concern, but he was no less aware of the rising amounts of Death Eater attacks as well as the trouble of Miss Angelina’s attack. 

The necklace that had been recovered after the fact by Aberforth, sat untouched in a sealed case in his desk. While he himself was aware of the attack's origin, circumstances most troubling prevented him from taking action.

Albus came to realize suddenly that the portraits had fallen silent. His rose soundlessly from his seat, “What is it?” he asked, watching the door warily. 

“That boy,” Phineas spoke, “The one my nephew was partial to, he seems rather insistent on getting in.”

“Harry?”

“No,” the portrait said with a wave of his hand, “The Alchemist.”

“Edward?” Dumbledore blinked in surprise.

“Will you let him in?” asked Catherine, her red curls spilling down her back as she leaned out of her frame, “I think you might be down a door if you don’t Albus. He seems quite determined.”

One of the other portraits laughed at the assertion that a mere child could break through, but Dumbledore frowned, he wasn’t so sure it was as impossible as his predecessor seemed to believe. “Cassandra,” he called to the graying witch hung near his desk, “can you visit your portrait in the hall? See if we can’t ascertain Mr. Elric’s intention?” She nodded and was off.

“Shocking to see one of my house so unsettled,” came a grumble to Albus’s left, and he replied with a quiet hum. Edward was certainly passionate in a way a good deal of his housemates did their best to suppress. He’d found, from his own observation and that of others, that Edward was somewhat bipolar in his disposition. Though, from what he’d learned after watching teenagers all these years, he felt it safe to assume it was a learned behavior.

The lighter side of him, Albus felt, who enjoyed the company of the Weasley Twins and endeared himself to Sirius and Remus, was the boy as he should have been, had circumstances been different. The cold, strategic, angry mask the boy wore was a defense mechanism. The things he’d seen in Edward’s head were far from clear, veiled under a haze that had made it hard for him to make out particulars, and he'd been shortly stopped by the appearance of The Gate. But, he’d seen enough to understand that the trauma of having been forcibly pulled into the middle of this war was not the only that he had ever endured.

“He’s in quite a state,” Cassandra said as she entered the room, “Wouldn’t say what it was he wanted to speak to you about, but he was very insistent.” Dumbledore frowned and returned to his desk. Raising his injured hand, Dumbledore unlocked the office door. There was silence for a few moments before the quiet groan of the stone steps rotating filled the door.

He half expected Edward to burst through the double doors immediately, but instead came a quiet knock, almost hesitant. “Come in,” he called, fingers steepled on the dark wood desktop in front of himself. The door swung inward, revealing Edward Elric, coat and boots dotted with quickly melting snow.

“Professor Dumbledore,” he said, inclining his head slightly. He looked as if he was going to say more, but his jaw seems to lock up in spite of himself. Albus felt he would have to agree with Cassandra, the boy did appear to be in quite the state.

“Edward, how can I help you?” he asked smoothly, hoping to coax the boy into talking again. The young Alchemist's head jerked in the affirmative, and Dumbledore didn’t miss the way his golden eyes seemed to scan about the room. “Edward,” Dumbledore said, drawing the boys gaze back to him, “This room is one of the most secure in the entire castle, no one can overhear anything you have to say.”

His face twisted into something resembling a frown, “It’s not that. Well- it is, somewhat I mean. But I- I’m not sure exactly how to go about saying this.”

“Saying what?”

Edward let out a little growl under his break, his brow pinched in frustration, “I don’t know,”

It was Dumbledore’s turn to frown now, “I’m not sure I quite follow,”

“It’s like- I know somethings wrong, because I saw it, I know I can’t be remembering what I think I do, but I don’t know what it means,” Ed shook out his hands in frustration, “I mean, I know what it means, somehow- but like unconsciously.” Edward took a deep breath and started again. “Something’s been done to me, to my head- and it means something. I’m sure of it. But I don’t know what.”

Dumbledore rose from his seat and descended from the platform towards Edward, concern knitted across his face. The headmaster bit back an apology as Edward drew away from him, clearly remembering their encounter in the Department of Mysteries. For now, though, the time to make amends was later. “How do you know?”

“What?”

“How did you figure out something had been done to you?”

“I saw-” he paused, correcting himself, “I remember The Three Broomsticks wrong- but only some of the time.” the boy's teeth were gritted so tight, Albus was sure his jaw would ache later, “I have this memory of standing outside, that never happened. I checked- after I realized something was wrong. It’s a real pub, the one I remember standing in front of, The Hogshead?”

“I know of it,” he murmured, gaze passing from one of Ed’s eyes to the other.

“Yeah, well I didn’t. I’d never been there, but I could remember it! You see where this is weird for me?” The end of his sentence adapting an irritable lint to it.

“You dreamt it?”

“No! I-” Edward shook his head, “I remember standing outside last time I was in Hogsmeade, standing there and talking with-” Edward’s voice cut off suddenly.

“Talking? Talking with whom?”

“I-.” the word left his lips quietly, warry, unsure.

“Edward?” the boy’s face seemed to close off suddenly, realization darkening his eyes.

“I know who attacked Angelina Picket.”

“Who?” he asked hesitantly, watching the boy carefully. If Edward knew… it could cause problems. “Who do you think was responsible?”

“It wasn’t-” Ed let out a little growl, thought Albus felt confident that the anger was directed inward rather than at him, “I don’t think,” he said slowly, his words separated, carefully picked, “He had a choice.”

“Edward-”

“I don’t think he had a choice, and I think, I think he needs help.” the teens eyes flicked upward meeting his own squarely, “It wasn’t his-” the boy seemed to course correct, veering away from absolving the assailant of all responsibility, “I think it’s complected, and that-”

“-Edward,” he said cutting the boy off gently, “I am not so callous as to punish someone caught up in circumstances beyond their control.” And while the boy didn’t speak up again, he did shoot Albus a skeptical look that Albus supposed he did deserve in a way. “Who is it you’re concerned about?”

“You swear to help him?”

“As much as I can, I will Edward.”

Edward narrowed his eyes, looking him up a down- though what he expected to see, Albus was unsure of. “It was Draco, Draco Malfoy.”

Albus nodded slowly, so he knew then. But- rather than with aggression... Edward seemed interested in helping the boy. This could work.

\---

Ed could feel the muscles in his shoulders twisted painfully tight, tension-laced through his entire body as Dumbledore gestured for him to follow him up to the dais where the headmaster’s desk sat.

“Edward,” Dumbledore began as he sat down, “would you consider Draco a friend of yours?” 

Ed blinked, what the fuck kinda question was that? The kid had screwed him over, messed with his head, hurt those girls Truth only knows how seriously! Why would he ever consider him his friend?

But then, there was a weird twist in his gut... He wasn’t his friend, not really- not yet. But there was a part of him that caught on the idea of what could have been. There were ideas that Draco held- that Pansy, and Blaise, and Elizabeth all held, that he didn’t, couldn’t agree with. But he’d be lying if he said their presences hadn’t made his time at Hogwarts, at the very least, easier to cope with. It had been a long time since he’d had the luxury of friends that didn’t serve a purpose, and he was starting to wonder if he’d just forgotten how it felt.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

Dumbledore nodded, “you are aware, I imagine, of Draco’s family's situation?”

“Yes,”

“And you believe this exempts him of responsibility?”

“No- I,” Ed shook his head, “it doesn’t excuse what he did, the people he hurt, but I don’t think we should rush to condemn him when we could help him out of the situation in the first place.”

Ed watched as Dumbledore gave him a faint smile, his eyes twinkling away in that particularly annoying fashion that they did. “Quite right Mr. Elric, quite right indeed,” but something about the old man’s words was off, despite the lightness in his face, Ed couldn’t help but notice the way his body bowed as if it had just aged several years.

“You knew?”

Dumbledore sighed, “I suspected- well rather, I knew Draco Malfoy had been tasked with killing me, but we had little proof he was directly responsible for this particular attack, even if we suspected him.”

“Then why-?”

“Why allow him to continue?” Ed nodded, “Because, Mr. Elric, you put it quite correctly when you said that Mr. Malfoy was being forced into this task, the repercussions of stopping him would have been very grave. I had no intention of stepping in unless Mr. Malfoy’s attempts posed a serious threat to the student body.”

“And the last attack didn’t?” Ed asked with a slight scoff, but Dumbledore only shook his head slightly.

“The necklace-” as the word left Dumbledore’s mouth Ed had a sudden flash of the exact item he spoke of, “That Mr. Malfoy gave to young Miss Picket was cursed, that is true, but while his plan was crude he clearly took steps as to prevent mishaps like what occurred.”

“But people still got hurt!” Ed hissed, though he wasn’t sure how his position had shifted so wildly from his initial arrival. There was something off about Dumbledore's explanation, and Ed intended to get to the bottom of it.

“Yes,” Dumbledore admitted, his calm hiding a brief second of pain, “I suppose that is true,”

Ed narrowed his eyes, “You still aren’t telling me everything,” Dumbledore opened his mouth but Ed cut him off, “no, no, not yet. Because I- I think,” Ed let out a quiet curse as something dawned on him, “You need him to keep going don’t you? That’s why you allowed it to continue, for some reason you need him to try and kill you.” Taking a look at Dumbledore’s carefully blank face Ed gave a little snort, “that’s it isn’t it? I’m right?”

There was silence for a moment, then the old man gave a low sigh. “Yes, you are,”

“But why?” Ed asked incredulously with a shake of his head, “why would you want that?”

“Things are… complicated,”

“When aren’t they?”

Dumbledore pursed his lips, considering his words carefully, “Edward… I’m dying,”

Ed blinked, whatever he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. “What?”

The old man gave a dry laugh, tinged with a familiar edge of self-deprecation as he settled his hand on his desktop. His… blackened hand. “I was foolish my boy, and it has put us in a difficult spot.”

“What do you mean?” Ed said eyeing the withered hand warily.

“I mean, I will die, slowly and painfully, before the next school year arrives, but unknowing of this Voldemort has tasked Draco Malfoy with killing me.” Ed nodded, he was following so far, even if he was unsure how it all connected back together. “Also unknown to Voldemort is that Mr. Malfoy’s mother has seen fit to protect her son from failure.”

“Narcissa’s done that how?” the words tumbled slowly from his lips.

Dumbledore folded his hands politely across the desk, once again flashing the decrepit look of the one slowly going black. “She formed an Unbreakable Vow with Severus to kill me, in the case that Draco could not.”

Ed nodded, finally getting it, “If Draco stops trying to kill you,” he hesitated a moment, meeting the headmasters pale blue eyes, “Severus is magically bound to finish you off?” Dumbledore nodded, “and I suppose then, that the reason you don’t let this just happen, is that there is a fair amount of timing at work?”

“Of a sort, mostly however the issue comes in the fact that once I die, there with be nothing to deter Voldemort from fully emerging from the shadows. We are preventing the inevitable for as long as we can.”

“As long as you can being…?”

“The end of the school year,”

Ed let out a low curse under his breath. If Draco’s actions furthered Dumbledore’s plans, the man had little to no incentive to help the other teen out of the mess he was in. “So what? You’re just going to leave Draco be for now? Let him keep trying? He’s nearly at the end of his rope as it is.”

Dumbledore frowned, “I know, and it is… regrettable-”

“-Regrettable!”

The Headmaster held up a hand, cutting Ed’s outrage off, “If you would allow me to continue? Mr. Elric, this is where the necessity of you help comes in.”

“My help,” Ed narrowed his eyes, the idea of being roped into the old wizard's plans was less than appealing, “What do you mean by that?”

“I asked you if you were friends with Mr. Malfoy because I sincerely hoped I could count on you too, as they say, watch his back,” Ed’s brows furrowed further, “The position he has been put into is perilous indeed, and as someone who now knows the extent of his situation, I look to you to be his support system,”

Ed was at a loss for how to respond, the idea seemed… well, sensible. In a way. But on the other hand, Draco had clearly rejected his help before, if his slowly returning memories were anything to judge by. What was there to make him rely on him this time. “So how exactly do you intend for me to win his trust here, sir? How exactly do you think I get Draco Malfoy to willingly let me into a part of his life clearly even his friends know nothing about?”

Ed couldn’t keep his frustration out of his voice, a feeling that only grew as the Headmaster’s eyes began to twinkle again.

“You’re an intelligent boy, Mr. Elric, I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”

“That’s bullshit.” Ed spat it exasperation, freezing only a moment later. That was the kind response he’d give to someone like Mustang, Dumbledore had no right to occupy a position of such familiarity in his life.

“Edward,” Dumbledore began softly, “This will likely be very difficult, but it is not impossible. And furthermore, you have a much better chance of getting Mr. Malfoy to open up to you than I imagine any of his friends do. Their relationships are founded of the faces they’ve shown each other for six years now, you who have not formed this bond yet will have a much easier time finding ways for him to show you things that do not fit this mask.”

“I’m not a spy, sir.”

“I know,” Dumbledore said not unkindly, “That’s not what I’m asking you to be,” he paused, “Mr. Elric, all I want you to be is a friend. Dark times have arrived and we could all do with a few more of those.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp. I'm back. I'm getting this out with the hope that next week will be on time as well, despite the hell that is midterms.


	21. Inflamed

Draco swore he could feel Ed’s eyes on the back of his neck, but every time he shot a glance back towards the blonde, the boy’s head was buried in some old book, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Draco,” Pansy asked from where she sat by the fire, “are you going to the Quidditch match tonight?”

Blaise scoffed, glancing up from the mess of late work spread across his lap, “Draco? Do something fun? You’ve got to be out of your mind Pans if you think anything could drag Malfoy away from his brooding,” the boy shook his dark head dismissively, and Draco couldn’t help the curl of anger that twisted in his gut. Blaise was right, he’d had no intention of leaving the castle tonight, but the disparaging way the boy had written him off rubbed Draco the wrong way. It wasn’t like he was doing this by choice. He wanted nothing more than to have the freedom to leave the castle and watch the game- even if it was just a shitty Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw match.

Draco swallowed down his rage and turned his attention back to the Defence Against the Dark Arts essay Snape had assigned. He hadn’t thought that that class could get any more tedious- but Snape had proved him wrong, pilling on mountains of homework far greater than any other teacher they’d had in the past. He was just moving to start the next line when he became aware yet again of the weight of his friend’s gazes.

“What!” he snapped, whipping his gaze from person to person, daring them to speak.

“Well-” started Crabbe. He'd been getting bolder recently, questioning Malfoy's decisions, questioning what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement. “We would- I mean, Goyle and I-” Goyle nodded his head rapidly in support, “You see, we’d really like to go to the match. It’s been ages Malfoy!”

Draco narrowed his eyes, “I don’t know why you feel inclined to tell me that, you oaf,” he hissed a little shittier than was really necessary.

“Well, I mean-”

“Do I look like I give a fuck what you do Crabbe?” he spat, drawing up his shoulders defensively as eyes widened with surprise, “honestly- do you genuinely think that I care? That I could ever care?”

“Jesus Malfoy,” Blaise breathed, Crabbe simply stared, a dark look flashing in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak again, vitriol balanced on the tip of his tongue when Ed interrupted. “Go to the game Crabbe, you as well Goyle. Don’t bother with him tonight.”

The tension seemed to rise for a moment, Pansy’s eyes flickering between the three of them, waiting. Then, the portrait swung open and in stepped that kid who’d slept up in their dorm back when Garrow had been trying to kill Ed. It was enough of a distraction to create cracks in the stormy mood, and by the time the kid had inched his way up the stairs to whatever room he was staying in these days, it had all but deflated.

This had become much more frequent in recent weeks. These almost fights. There was enough bite to them that they meant something. Meant growing fissures in their relationships, but they never took the full leap into all-out social brawls. They’d all been at this, well perhaps with the exception of Elric, too long to ruin partnerships so easily, but even knowing that Draco could feel them all reaching the end of their collective rope.

It scared him.

While on one hand, a lack of social responsibility would make his task easier to accomplish- he wasn’t sure how he would cope with a complete departure from his normal life.

Crabbe scoffed, the harsh sound causing Draco to tense, “See the rest of you down at the pitch,” his comment garnering quiet murmurs of assent, “Elric?”

“Hmm?”

“You coming to the game?” Goyle asked.

“Not sure,” the blonde said with a shrug, “The weather’s shit.”

Blaise gave a laugh, “Elric, it’s Scotland- the weather's always shit,”

Elric shrugged again, his lips twitching into what could almost be called a smile, “we’ll see,”

Blaise gave an exaggerated sigh as he folded up his work and proceed to smack Ed with it lightly, ignoring the other boy’s squawk. “Whatever you say, you contrary bastard,” Blaise crossed pass Draco without so much as a look in his direction, heading back to the dorm to grab his coat presumably.

“Draco…” He tried not to snap as he heard Pansy’s voice, her careful tone the only thing restraining him.

“Yeah?” he asked, flicking his eyes between her and his work hoping to get his point across.

She put her stuff aside and stepped towards him, sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder in a way that caught the firelight.  “Are you okay?”

Elric gave a little cough and seemed to vanish from his place at the table between one second and the next. Draco almost laughed at the other boy's discomfort- he supposed he knew now what to use if he ever needed Ed to piss off quick. Of course, _this_ wasn’t what Ed was thinking. He’d known Pans long enough to know the difference between _that_ and friendship. He’d always thought it was rather obvious, even if the suggestive looks he got from other boys clearly indicated that not everyone was up on how fake her attraction to him really was.

“I’m fine Pans,” he said with a sigh, setting down his quill, “just tired,”

She frowned, leaning against the table he sat at, “you really don’t look too good,”

“Thanks, Pansy,” he said dryly, intending it as a joke but the harsh look she shot him proved that she didn’t find it all that funny.

“I’m serious Draco, you look ill. Do you need to go see Madam-”

“I’m tired Pans, that’s all,”

She scowled, “are you-”

“I’m sure.”

“I can stay with you if you want?” she asked hesitantly, her arms twitching like she wanted to reach out to him.

He shook his head, pulling away just enough to make his stance on touch clear, “Go to the game Pansy. Go have a nice night with Elizabeth,” she blushed a little, color glowing through her olive skin.

“Draco-”

“I’m fine,” he said firmly, barring further discussion on the subject. “I’m sorry I snapped earlier,” he said with a half-hearted smile, “now go have fun with your friends Pansy,”

“Our,” she said, pulling away.

“What?”

“Our friends, Draco, they’re your friends too,”

He gave a little grin, “Jury’s still out on that at the moment,”

\---

When Christmas break comes, it feels like everyone but Draco and himself disappears. Pansy gives him a crushing hug when it’s time for the Hogwarts Express to take the other kids back to King Cross Station. She wraps her arms around his neck so tight it causes shooting pains through his shoulder as she buries her head in his neck, whispering quietly, begging him to look out for Draco.

He promises he will.

It’s not until he’s back inside Hogwarts that Ed realizes that he really means it.

Promising Dumbledore was one thing, they both knew it wasn’t a real agreement- just like “trying your best” was no real guarantee of results. Promising Pansy was different though. She hadn’t asked him as a master schemer intent on using both Draco and himself as pawns in a greater plan, she’d asked him as a friend. And dammit did her desperation make him want to help. It seemed this world hadn’t burned away all of his naive hero-type characteristics after all.

But saying it had started with Pansy was lying to himself.

Ed had tried to remain angry with Draco, for hurting those girls, for fucking with his head- for being such an unrepentant self-sacrificing prick about it all. But with each passing day, it had become harder. He didn’t forgive Draco per se, but he found it hard not to sympathize with his motives, particularly as it really hadn’t been too long ago that he had found himself in a similar situation with the Fuhrer. He recognized the stress and anxiety that clung to Draco as his own, and it hurt to see someone else in such a position.

He couldn’t do anything to directly confront Draco, that much was clear. That could lead to getting his memory whipped again, or, Draco actually stopping and forcing Severus to kill Dumbledore much too far ahead of schedule. It was clear the headmaster had filled the DADA professor in on his understanding of the situation if the looks the greasy haired man sent him were any indication. So this left Ed with… lurking. Waiting in Draco’s peripheral vision, getting snacks from the house elves and leaving them on Draco’s bed, leaving his notes from class out so Draco could do the work they’d been assigned over break, despite them both knowing Draco had been doing more sleeping in class than actually learning.

Draco knew it was him, the Malfoy heir wasn’t an idiot, and really the only surprise for Ed was how long it took for the other teen to confront him over it. Ed didn’t deign the boys bluster with anything other than a shrug, and an off-handed comment about Pansy’s concern. Draco responded by passive-aggressively ignoring his help until Ed woke one morning to find Draco slumped against his trunk. 

The boy was missing both of his shoes, one of his socks and half his shirt was unbuttoned, bowing outward oddly on his limp form. He’d clearly been on his way to bed, but somewhere along the way his brain and his body had had a disagreement about when exactly sleep was appropriate. It was still early in the morning, as Ed rose before his dorm mates in order to change without prying eyes, so he figured there was no harm in letting Draco sleep for a bit longer.

However, a childhood of growing up with a mechanic with a tendency to fall asleep in the middle of her work had instructed Ed quite thoroughly on the pains of sleeping upright. So, instead of leaving Draco to suffer the consequences of his actions, Ed tossed back the sheets of the other boy’s bed and looked to Draco to consider how best to move forward. With a sigh, Ed reached down and clasped his hand around Malfoy’s shoulder giving it a little shake. The boy gave a sleepy moan, his head dropping forward sharply, doing much more to wake him then Ed had done.

Draco’s grey eyes blinked slowly up at Ed under his pale lashes, seemingly tore between the confusion of why Ed was there and why he was on the floor. “There we go,” Ed muttered as he used this shoulder to leverage Draco upright. The other teen gave a sharp hiss of discomfort, his legs all but giving out with the sudden movement. “Don’t be a baby Malfoy, you’re gonna thank me for this later,” Ed groused, dumping him into his bed and tossing his sheets back on top of him.

“Ed… what?-”

“Sleep,”

“I-”

“Now, asshole,” he frowned, “you actually get back to sleep, I might feel sympathetic enough to pick you up some breakfast.

Ed turned and left the room, Malfoy still blinking dully after him.

They don’t mention any of it. It’s never acknowledged in any capacity, but Malfoy stops refusing Ed's passive help after. 

They’re nearing the end of the two-week break when Ed gets sick again. It’s still happened every month since getting to school, but for whatever reason, this month is particularly rough. He absently wonders if it could be because the winter equinox is nearing, the longest night of the year holds plenty of magical significance… significance he could probably remember better if his head didn’t feel like he’d spent all morning bashing it into the castle walls.

At some point, he drifts off, and when he comes back to himself he’s standing in a field somewhere in Amestris. It's been a while since he’s dreamt of home and it shows. As his friends come over the hillcrest he can see the signs of times passage. Both the Chimeras are scruffier than usual, and Greed’s coat is far from the Sin’s usual level of cleanliness.

Ed walks up to great them, falling into step as they walk. He doesn’t talk, just enjoys their presence. Every so often Hankel or Darrius shoots a look his way, half hidden in a way meant to look casual. It’s the only indication any of them have the slightest inclination of his presence. It doesn’t feel as hurtful as it once did, but it still leaves him sad inside.

Conversation is stilted when there is any, all parties content to ignore one another. Ed supposes it makes sense- the group is only together because of him, his not being there has made it somewhat aimless. Though, he can’t help but admit that he’s a little happy they’re still together. It’s almost like they’re waiting for him.

Things fade away, and suddenly he’s in Central.

Mustang’s asleep at his desk, hand still wrapped around his pen, the tip slowly creating an ink blot on the paperwork he was working on. There comes a knock at the door, careful, quiet, so unlike anything Ed’s was used to hearing in Mustang’s office.

“Colonel? Colonel Mustang, sir?”

Mustang stirs at his desk blinking absently when the knock comes again, “shit!” he hissed under his breath, jerking upright. “Come in,” 

The door swings open to let a young woman in, a private- probably Oliva’s age, though she couldn’t be more different in appearance with her blond bun, and tight uniform. She’s nervous, almost prompting Ed to make a joke about Mustang and biting, but he's too taken aback by how wrong it all is. Mustang’s unit is well oiled if chaotic, machine. Its members are skilled, self-assured, and not one of them would be caught dead waiting for Mustang’s permission to enter.

Mustang accepted the papers she'd brung him and dismissed her without fanfare. Impersonal, cold, everything Ed had hated about the military brass when he was younger. It made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t imagine what it would be like for Mustang. Stripped away from everyone he trusted- Sympathy was not an emotion he could say he felt often in connection with the Colonel.

He took a step forward-

“ED!”

He snapped upright with a gasp, cold night air filling his lungs all at once, “Come on,” an arm intertwined with his own, pulling him. Ed pulled back, fighting off the hands that clung to him. “Elric, seriously!” his attacker gave a grunt of pain, “fuck!” Ed whipped over the side of his bed standing as ready as he could for another attack, “Jesus Ed, wake up!”

Something soft impacted his leg, and he glanced down to see what it was he’d been struck with. It was almost funny how long it took for his brain to recognize the object as a pillow. “What…” he mumbled slowly lowering his arms, “what?”

“Oh now you wake up,” came a muttered sound from the floor, followed by a couple of thuds that signified the speaker climbing to his feet. Draco’s pale face glowed in the faint moonlight, his eyes suspicious, “you are awake right?”

“Yeah, I’m- did I do that?” Ed squinted at the faint bruise growing of Draco’s left cheek.

Draco reached up and prodded the tender skin, letting out a low hiss, “No shit, you in a fight club or something? You hit like a giant,”

“Sorry,” Ed mumbled flexing and unflexing his automail, “I wasn’t-”

“Oh no, I gathered that. Uh, yeah, no- no that I got.” He paused, his face screwing up, “I’d hate to be on the receiving end of your fist when you’re awake,”

“Still, I’m sorry,”

Draco hummed. “You seem… better now? So maybe you don’t need to go see Pomphrey,”

“What?”

“Well,” he shifted as if suddenly finding himself very uncomfortable by all of this, “that’s what I was doing- wasn’t just picking a fight for the fun of it,” he sneered, “thought I was gonna wake across from a corpse in the morning the way you were carrying on,”

“I’m- sorry?” Ed responded, caught off guard by Draco’s sudden change in tone.

The other boy took a step back, tossing himself dismissively onto his own bed, “Just handle your shit Elric, don’t need your crying waking me up.” With that, he rolled over sharply, pulling his blanket up to his ears, leaving Ed standing alone in his confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I did TRY to get it out by Friday. Happy Holiday's everyone!


	22. Neomeniam

Ed didn’t go see Madam Pomfrey after Draco woke him up, but he didn’t go back to sleep either. Instead, he shoves his feet in his boots and tossed his jacket on, all over the top of his night clothes. He hesitated for a moment at the mouth of the room before reaching back and grabbing his green wool scarf lying on the edge of his four-poster bed. The night air bites a bit in December after all.  
  
He slipped out of the room silently, curfew was lighter now, it being break and all, but he had no illusions about Filch’s willingness to string him up if he got caught out after hours. It’d been a while since he'd last had to practice stealth- the Malfoy’s probably the latest he’d so much as tried. His head was still throbbing in a vaguely disorienting way, his mind wanted to sleep but his body was restless. He had this feeling in his bones like, if he didn’t keep moving, he was going to shake himself apart.  
  
The outside air was a welcome shock, the sharp chill in his bones waking his mind up a bit- helping it keep time with his frantic heart. He settled himself down on a rock, back pressed against a thick tree in the middle of the green. Ed tucked his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on them as he dragged in deep breaths.  
  
He wasn’t really sure what was wrong with him, just that his blood seemed to overflow with irrational nervous energy. His teeth worried his bottom lip, half restless energy, half shivers until it began to bleed slightly. He folded his hands behind his neck, knotting them in the warm, rough, wool. His lungs feel tight, his gut knotted together like he’d been struck.  
  
“You know, for a Puca, you don’t seem to have any horns,” a dreamy voice said to his left, slow and soothing. Ed raised his head to find Neville’s friend squatting beside him, her white-blonde hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Luna, her name was Luna.  
  
“I don’t have any horns,” he croaked out, his voice not cooperating well with his lack of oxygen. His brain not quite making all the connections. “I’m not-” he swallowed harshly, “I’m not a werewolf,”  
  
She settled on the grass beside him, “Of course not silly,” she smiled at him lightly, “If you were a werewolf I’d be quite dead now,” she nudged his shoulder lightly, “see?” she pointed above them where the full moon hung brightly in the sky.  
  
“Oh,” Ed breathed, his lungs seized again, his fingers clenched tighter.  
  
“You seem to be having trouble breathing,” she said. It wasn’t a question, just an observation, and he couldn’t help the strangled laugh that spilled from his lips.  
  
“No shit,”  
  
Slowly she reached out and took one of his hands, bringing it carefully away from his neck. Luna’s hands were warm, far warmer than they had any right to be this time of year. She was humming something under her breath, a tuneless melody without rhyme or reason. Ed would be surprised if she even knew she was doing it.  
  
“You worry too much,” she said quietly, sounding a little sad, “you’re hurting your heart,”  
  
“I’m fine,” he mumbled in response. His breath hitching slightly even as his lungs seemed to pull air in easier.  
  
She hummed, “no you’re not, you’re tolerable,”  
  
“Oh, thanks,” he muttered. They sat in silence for a moment, Ed pulling in deep breaths and slowly becoming aware of how damp his clothes had become. Luna didn’t seem to mind the cold, perfectly content to breathe in the night air alongside him. “Why are you here?” He asked.  
  
“It’s quiet,”  
  
“And it’s not inside?”  
  
“No,”  
  
“Oh,” he paused, “I suppose I don’t know what the Ravenclaw- Ravenclaw right?” she nodded, “Ravenclaw common room is like, most of the Slytherins have cleared out for the holidays,”  
  
“Not you?”  
  
“Not me,” he laughed, “no one waiting for me,”  
  
“No friends?”  
  
He hummed lightly, “Pansy- uh Pansy Parkinson?” Luna pulled a face, “Hey, she's really not that bad when you get to know her. But, uh, she invited me over for the holidays,”  
  
“You didn’t want to,” a statement, not a question,  
  
“Yeah,” he hesitated, “I just needed a break I think,” Ed let out a laugh- “I would have gladly taken her offer over Zabini’s though, that sounded like fucking torture,”  
  
“No, not torture,” Luna said sagely, “Poison,”  
  
“Sure,”  
  
They lapsed into silence again. Ed’s flesh leg was beginning to go numb, but he couldn’t yet find the energy to get up. “You know, that’s not what I meant,”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I said I came here for the quite, you assumed I meant the common room was too noisy- that’s not what I meant,”  
  
Ed cocked his head to the side, “then what did you mean then?”  
  
“Did you know that magic has a song?”  
  
“A song?”  
  
“A hum that flows through everything, whispering through the universe,” Ed felt hairs rise on the back of his neck, “My mother showed it to me,”  
  
“Your mother?”  
  
“She was a bit like a Muggle scientist in a way, always experimenting with magic- spells, potions, artifacts- really anything she could get her hands on. She liked combining things, people told her she was crazy for it- that it was reckless, dangerous, but she didn’t care. She loved it too much. I used to help her you see, and she would show me tricks- things that she had discovered.”  
  
“Like magic’s hum,” Luna nodded.  
  
“And I was down there- down there the day she died- when everything rebounded,”  
  
Ed felt his stomach drop, “ I’m so sorry Luna, that’s awful,”  
  
She met his eyes, her pale silver to his gold, “I’ve always been able to hear it since- most days I hardly notice, but sometimes all of it gets too loud," she paused, “It took me a while to be able to notice, but all different types of magic, they make different sounds.” her grip on his hand seemed to tighten slightly, “The last time I hear magic like you hum with, was the night my mother died,”  
  
Ed froze, “Luna…”  
  
“It wasn’t magic my mother was messing with, was it? It was Alchemy.”  
  
“I-”  
  
“I know a backfiring spell when I see one, they happened all the time when my mother worked- that night was different. It… twisted her.”  
  
Ed felt his eyes welling up, the shaking had returned, though for entirely different reasons. “Luna…” he gasped slightly, “yes, yes,” he said, “I think you’re right,”  
  
So nodded, not unaffected exactly, but undisturbed by the information, “I’m sorry to have upset you,” she murmured, “I just wanted to know- I’ve always wanted to know if I was right,”  
  
Ed shook his head, unable to get the words out. His mind flooded with overlapping images of his own mother and a woman who he imagined to look like Luna. He didn’t know what her mother had been attempting, any imbalanced Alchemical reaction could cause a rebound, but he couldn’t help but transpose her onto the twisted result of human transmutation.  
  
Luna dropped his hand slowly and got to her feet, “Time to go,” she murmured, “everything is waking,” indeed the sun was beginning to rise above the forest, and the portraits would soon begin to stir in their frames. Leaning down, she tucked his hair behind his ear and whispered, her voice resuming its odd dream-like quality, “leave the worry in the night, Edward Elric,”  
  
\---  
  
Ed missed breakfast that morning, instead of taking advantage of the rush, to shower without the possibility of intrusion. His shoulder ached as he reached to turn the knobs, and Ed could make out a faint clicking sound somewhere deep in the mechanisms. The damage done to his stump holding Garrow up had scarred over by now, but Ed didn’t think it was very distinguishable from what had already been there, so he needn't worry about Madam Pomfrey’s fussing when he finally wandered down there for maintenance.  
  
The problem was, it was truly a very unpleasant process, and while generally, he would have taken advantage of the break to get it over with, due to how shitty he already felt, he couldn’t find the motivation. Instead, Ed tucked that away in his to do pile, returned to his bed, and began working on that journal he'd bought from Jack.  
  
About noon Malfoy came back to the room, looking, Ed thought, not nearly as tired as he had been the past month, but more so than he had the rest of the week. His fault he supposed. “Cheers,” Draco called, dropping two thick envelopes on to his bunk.  
  
“What’s this?” Ed asked scooping them up,  
  
“Why I believe they are letters Elric, a shame your brain is to idled to notice,” the other boy called back sardonically as he dug through his trunk.  
  
“Thanks, Malfoy, me and my idled brain would be lost without you,” Ed tossed his spare pillow at the boy’s back, “I meant what are you doing with them,”  
  
“Pans and Lizzy must have told the owls to drop your post to me if you didn’t show. Most of us have some backup in case we can’t pick it up immediately, don’t want to leave it lying about for anyone to read,”  
  
Ed hummed, it wasn’t a bad system. Pulling open his bedside drawer, Ed pulled out his letter opener and slit open the top of the first of the stack.  
  
_Dear Eddie,_  
_  
It’s awfully boring here without the lot of you. Normally I’d at least have Draco’s party to look forward to, but with Lucius… In any case, I hope you’ve been well. I want to apologize for dropping all of that on you at the train station. Asking you to take care of Draco like that, it wasn’t fair._

_Father says I have to have you over at the end of the year, he couldn’t believe I’d let you stay at Hogwarts over break. He says that ‘interesting people should never be neglected by the wayside’. I’m sure my mother would love to meet you too._

_I’ve sent your Christmas present along, and since I won’t be there to see you open it you’ll have to send me a letter telling me what you think!_  
  
_Love,_  
_Pansy Parkinson_  
  
Christmas present? Fuck, he’d forgotten all about that holiday’s obligations- much less had he assumed anyone would be getting him anything.  
  
“What are you muttering about over there?” Draco asked from where he lay across his bed, Charms textbook open in his lap.  
  
“I forgot to get Pansy and Christmas gift!” he hissed.  
  
Draco just rolled his eyes, “Don’t sweat it, there's a Hogsmeade trip just before for emergency shopping,” he stuck an arm out jabbing it at him accusingly, “though, if you value your life, never let her find out,”  
  
Ed hissed, “that bad?”  
  
Draco collapsed backward, “Nah, Pans will just get sad- pretend it doesn’t bug her as much as it does. It’s Lizzy who you have to watch out for- she’ll slit your fucking throat,”  
  
“Lovely,”  
  
Draco hummed in agreement as Ed slit open the letter from the aforementioned girl.  
  
_Edward,_  
_  
Cheers, Happy Holidays, etc, etc…_

_Hope you haven’t thrown anyone off the walls again, hope more specifically you haven't thrown Draco of the walls yet. It would be funny for all of five seconds before everything went to shit._

_One half-blood to another, may I state my burning hatred for the Tube? If you haven’t guessed, I’m staying with my father over the holidays. Normally he takes Easter but with the Malfoy, party canceled he was able to swing this break instead._

_Not that you’re particularly interested, just figure someone should know why I was in London in case my body washes up in the Thames. The Cafe that my old man pulls shifts at got attacked by Death Eaters the day I arrived- he was picking me up so he avoided the chaos, but it was still a bit close to home._  
  
_Hope Break hasn’t absolutely miserable,_  
_Elizabeth_  
  
_P.S. Have you heard from Pansy?_  
  
The letter summed up Lizzy to a T, frank- almost offensively so- but with just enough extraneous details that it appeared almost personal. It was a perfect letter. Or rather, it would be if not for the postscript.  
  
He had in fact heard from Pansy, the irony of her letter lying open beside him was not lost on him as he frowned at the paper in his hand. The last line forcing him to reconsider the rest of the writing. On his second time through he became convinced of it- the extraneous writing was not Lizzy’s mention of the tube or her holiday plans, but the entire letter. He and Lizzy were hardly close enough friends that she would casually write him a letter. She didn’t crave social interaction like Pansy, for her, it was more a side effect of living than a prize. So the letter had a purpose then, the purpose was Pansy.  
  
For whatever reason, either Lizzy had been unable to get in contact with her, or she had refused contact with Lizzy. Both possibilities seemed odd or out of character.  
  
“Have Lizzy and Pans had a fight?” Ed asked across the room at Draco’s prone figure.  
  
The boy sat up with a frown, “Not that I’m aware of, why?”  
  
“It’s just that, Elizabeth wrote me a letter, asking after Pans? And it just seems off that they haven’t talked?”  
  
Draco’s face twisted like he had a bad taste in his mouth, “don’t worry about it,” he said, “Just write Lizzy back to say you have and leave it be,”  
  
“Draco?”  
  
“Seriously Ed, it’s none of your business,”  
  
Ed frowned, “If you say so-”  
  
“-I do say so,” Draco’s tone was sharp, carrying a warning edge to it Ed hadn’t heard in a long time. Seeing the proverbial line in the sand, Ed backed off. Grabbing some stationary and a quill from the drawer beside him, he scrawled out a quick response.  
  
_Lizzy,_  
  
_Cheers to you too._  
_Yeah, got a letter from her today. Seemed fine, just said she was bored._  
  
_Stay safe,_  
_Ed_  
  
Setting all three letters aside, for now, Ed picked up where he’d left off with the journals, scratching out a makeshift key on some scrap parchment. Nothing that couldn’t be destroyed later.  
  
The code had been a bitch at first, but it still had nothing on Doctor Marco’s notes on the philosopher's stone. It was half personal journal, half research notes- written by a person who identified themselves only as A. A it seemed wasn’t working alone either, and as it progressed, the pages became filled with more and more references to someone identified as G. G thinks that G thinks this, G suggested today…  
  
It wasn’t till nearly halfway through Ed saw something that caught his eyes. There, printed across the bottom of the page in foreign handwriting, _For the greater good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one was only a day late. Yay for improvement.


	23. Christmas

_ For the Greater Good.  _ Foreign handwriting aside- the first instance of someone other than the main owner writing in the journal- the words resonated for another reason entirely. He’d been quoting Miles at the time when he’d said them, but it was now clear that here, in this world, they carried another meaning entirely. Something that recontextualized Madam Price's reaction entirely. Here it seemed, those words were dark.

“Draco?”

“Yeah,” the other boy replied, his eyes never leaving the pages of his textbook.

“If I were to say, ‘For the greater good’, what would you take that to mean?”

Draco’s gaze rose slowly, taking Ed in as he looked him up and down, “You joking?”

“No?”

“Huh, I mean- Germany, I figured- well there's really only one thing that comes to mind isn’t there? I mean, I can’t think of any context other than Grindelwald, right?”

Ed blinked, “Yeah, of course. Just some weird wording,” he said raising the front of the journal for Malfoy to see. Internally though, Ed’s mind was running at full force, searching through his veritable repertoire of magical knowledge for con- it clicked suddenly. Gellert Grindelwald, Dark Wizard and revolutionary. He’d been reading a book about his uprising in Elia’s home before...

“What is it?”

“Huh?”

“That book you’re reading,” Malfoy said, jutting his chin out in lieu of pointing.

“Oh,” Ed shook his head to clear it, “Just some historical journal I picked up in Hogsmeade- shop owner gave it to me because they haven't been able to decode it.” Ed kept his voice light and clear despite his every instinct in his body driving him to run to the Library and read everything he possibly could about the Wizard.

Whether the writer of the phrase was a fan or a follower- Grindelwald was a powerful Wizard, a connection between him and the Elder Wand seemed promising. Ed could barely contain his glee as he turned his attention unassumingly back to the pages in front of him.

“The shop wasn’t able to decode it, but you were?”

“What?”

“You said they gave it to you because they weren’t able to decode it- but here you are just,” he waved his arm in exasperation, “just flipping your way through it,”

“Well, yeah,” Ed said awkwardly, “I have a ton of practice,”

“A ton of practice decoding?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

Ed nodded, “And writing it. Alchemists are ridiculously paranoid- they code everything. It’s a pain whenever you’re trying to reference other people’s work, but it keeps people from stealing your research,”

“Oh,” they fell into silence, but just as Ed turned his eyes back to the Journal, Draco spoke up again, “I just-” he frowned.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing really, I- when I was… a kid,” he paused, “that’s just not how I imagined things,”

“What do you mean?” Ed asked, putting the book down. Draco looked so much younger now- and Ed was struck with the memory of a year before, standing out it the poorly named Rose Garden with Draco, as he told Ed about his seven-year-old dream of becoming an Alchemist.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged loosely, “maybe that book talked it up- made it seem more magical. It always seemed… purer? Then that. The idea of Alchemist’s stealing each other's work doesn’t really fit with the childhood dream of high-class magic only a few wizards could even dare to dream of performing,”

“Yeah, it uh… I think that’s the way it was supposed to be.” Ed dropped his head back against the wall, “But, people are greedy and cruel- and they lust for power.” he paused, “Alchemy is amazing but it can do some truly horrible things. Alchemists… we don’t always think things through. We get caught up in the “can we” and forget about the “should we” part.” Ed gave a bitter laugh, his mind pulling up images of the atrocities that the State Military had sponsored. “There are a lot of secrets that really should remain just that… secret.”

Draco nodded, looking a bit put out causing Ed to wince. In true Edward Elric fashion, he’d fucked it all up and destroyed some childhood dreams while he was at it.” You...uh, want to see some?”

“What?”

“Alchemy, you want to see some Alchemy?”

The pale blonde just blinked at him as if unable to comprehend what Ed was asking, “Really?”

“Yeah!” Ed laughed, “I mean- some of its shit that should never see the light of day, but that doesn’t mean all of it is,”

Draco’s face twitched, fighting off the grin that threatened to take over his face, “Yeah. Yeah sure, I- I would like that. I would really like that,”

Ed flung himself off his four-poster on to the ground between the two boys beds, quill in hand. Draco quickly joined him, though admittedly he lowered himself to the ground with a bit more dignity.

“Okay,” Ed said, jamming his quill in its inkwell, “First things first. This,” he said sketching a circle on the ground in between them, “Is your array outline, it’s the basis of any Alchemical reaction you want to create,” he glanced up to see if he’d lost the other boy, but Draco seemed to be following along intently. “The symbols you put inside it determine how your energy is directed- and what the outcome will be,”

“So not good in a rush?” Draco asked, Ed’s first instinct was to react defensively- but quickly Ed realized Draco’s question had been an honest one.

“Depends,” he answered, “If you’re switching between lots of different types of Alchemy, then yes, it’s impractical. But, if you pick one specific type, and then have a standard array, you can stitch it on to clothes or tattoo it on your skin- in those cases, it can be faster than casting with a wand,”

Draco hummed in response and motioned for Ed to continue. Carefully he moved he gloved hands, cautious of the wood grain until the array was full. Placing his fingers on the edge, Ed let out a breath as he activated the transmutation, filling the room with a familiar blue light. It didn’t take long, the transmutation only a small one, but the buzz of Alchemical energy in his limbs almost brought tears to his eyes with its familiarity.

Ed watched as Draco reached out and retrieve the product. The ball fitting easily into Draco’s palm, it’s entire structure made up of dozens of interwoven serpents crawling and tangling among themselves.  The other boy rolled it in his hand almost reverently, observing it from every angle. Almost reluctantly Malfoy extended his hand towards Ed- to give it back Ed suddenly realized.

“No, no,” Ed shook his head, “Keep it,” than with a laugh he added, “Happy Christmas Draco,”

\---

Ed waited with Draco on the platform for the train, shifting back and forth slightly in the cold. He hadn’t been able to find his uniform scarf that morning to ward off the winter chill, and while Draco strongly denied it- Ed had no doubt the other boy had snagged in an attempt to force him to wear the wool monstrosity that Blaise had given him for Christmas. It was impractically long, a jab at his height Ed was sure, and covered with wolves with bright golden eyes. It was far too on the nose to be anything but a custom job, and Malfoy found it hilarious.

“Aw,” the pale blonde had snickered, “He cares. Look how well he’s paid attention!”

Ed had been contemplating strangling the other boy with it until Malfoy opened his own package. Inside had been a silver pocket watch not unlike Ed’s own. A perfectly adequate gift, but completely and utterly impersonal. It was clear that the hostility between the two boys had not mellowed over the break.

Pansy had given him a stack of books nearly as tall as he was, topped with a note informing Ed that her older brother had been helping her shop, that he was a bit of a nerd too, and that he was entirely to blame if Ed hadn’t enough space in his trunk to get all the books back home at the end of the year. Draco had seen the note and just nodded. “Sounds like Ezekia alright. Though I wouldn’t blame him entirely for the amount- if there is one thing those two have in common it’s their love of shopping, I’m sure Pans had plenty a hand in it.”

“I didn't even realize she had a brother,” he’d remarked as he looked over the pile, please to see that most of them were advanced potion making and arithmancy books.

“Yeah, he’s a full seven years ahead of us- a bit of a black sheep, a disappointment in terms of an heir. Ran off with some Ravenclaw boy straight out of school and been traveling ever since. He’s certainly got the money for it, no matter how much it pissed off Pansy’s father, he’s her mother’s favorite. Shows up for the holidays- Christmas, Easter- and then he disappears again.”

Draco’s present seemed to be a combined effort from the siblings as well, as his box contained a brand new set of deep green dress robes that brought out his eyes. “Those are nice,” Ed offered when Draco gave no reaction.

“What? Right, no- yes, they’re nice, lovely,” Draco said blinking back to the present as he shoved something resembling a note into his pocket.

“Everything alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I- never mind,”

Lizzy had gotten him a foe glass, attached to it a note warning him about setting it up at Hogwarts.

“She’s right you know,” Draco said as he neatly pulled off the paper of his own gift, “You set that thing up in the dorm you’ll go mad with paranoia,”

“You think so?”

Draco laughed, “I know so! Marcus Flint? He was our Quidditch captain, and he became so convinced that the Weasley Twins were out to get him that he set one up in his dorm. Ended up having to repeat that year because he failed his exit exams- so paranoid because he saw shadows moving around at all hours of the day,”

Ed let out a low hiss of sympathy at the bygone Slytherin’s plight. Having lived his the Weasley twins for a period he couldn’t imagine the terror of having those two out for his blood. Draco’s gift from Lizzy was a book-  _ Care and Repair of Magick Items Volume Four: How to Safely Deal with Faulty Furniture.  _ For as much as the meaning of the gift went over Ed’s head, if the other boy’s pallor was anything to judge by the gift was clearly significant.

Ed’s last gift was from Draco, a vile of Forever Rustless Metal Polish- “for that watch of yours Elric, I’m embarrassed to be seen with someone with such a battered accessory,” and a bottle of Fire Whiskey “to share with anyone who wasn’t Zabini,”. Ed knew he wasn’t imagining the blush that crept up Draco’s pale face when he impulsively pulled the other boy into a hug. He also knew he wouldn’t regret the action when Draco tentatively returned the gesture.

As the train rolled up the station Ed glanced over at Draco, his eyes fixed firmly on the horizon. As students began flooding the platform Malfoy shook himself and began scanning the platform for their housemates. Through the crowd Ed was able to pick out the Gryffindor crew- only Harry briefly met his eyes.

“Draco!”

Draco let out a harsh exhale of breath as Pansy impacted his chest hard, her arms tightly woven around his middle, freshly cut black hair under his chin. Blaise stood a little further back, jacket hanging over his shoulder like it wasn’t below freezing out. Beside him Elizabeth looked forward seemingly disinterested, leather-gloved hands folded nicely in front of her, her hair falling loosely rather than the partial pullback she normally wore. With the exception of Pansy’s almost ridiculously overzealous greeting, the air around the group's reunion was cold and distant. Ed felt out of the loop, clearly the last to know what was going on.

As they walked to the carriages Ed slipped the other Slytherin’s their gifts- a scarf for Pansy, a book of Jack’s recommendation for Lizzy, and some alcoholic chocolates he’d bought off an older student for Zabini. Being last minute purchases Ed felt they were pretty underwhelming- but both girls seemed perfectly content with them, and the grin on Zabini’s face when he saw his gift almost made Ed want to take them back.

It wasn’t until they were actually climbing aboard the carriages that Ed noticed something odd. Draco seemed to be staring at the black skeleton horses that had so unnerved Ed when he first arrived, the horses that Draco claimed he wasn’t able to see. Ed felt a frown overtake his face. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected Draco to be perfectly honest with him, they had really only just met. But that begged the question, who had he seen die?

The question became less pressing as they rode on, the dull darkish mood of the cabin’s other inhabitants having returned, the brief distraction of presents having passed. As they stepped out at Hogwarts Ed pulled Lizzy aside.

“Is everything alright?”

She absently removed her gloves and tucked them away, not fulling meeting his eyes, “As far as I’m aware,”

Ed frowned, “Don’t lie to me,” she raised a brow at him and Ed winced, “sorry- just,” he took a breath, “clearly, there's something going on- your letter told me as much. I- if I’m intruding on something just tell me, but don’t leave me without even acknowledging that there's a problem,”

She let out a breath, “I-” she bit back her words to Ed’s shock, the sight of her hesitating for anything was unnerving, “Pansy,” she said carefully, “had a reevaluation of her priorities,”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, Pansy Parkinson is in love with Draco Malfoy as she should be, and someday they’ll get happily married and bring into the world a brand new host of little pure-blooded Slytherin’s,”

Ed frowned, that… wasn’t what he was expecting, “I’m sorry, I’m a little lost-” he said, “I don’t-”

“Look. Ed, you’re new here, that means you’ve missed things. Missed things like the four years it took to convince Pansy what the rest of us already knew. That her father's approval wasn’t worth lying to herself every day about the necessity of a life she didn’t get a say in,”

“I-”

“Draco’s family is losing face,”

“Yeah, I know,”

“That means Draco is losing face, and very rapidly he’s becoming a less desirable husband.” Lizzy’s mouth was pinched, her every word unnaturally cutting and unnecessarily harsh, “Draco and Pansy have been functionally engaged since the day they were born. At the time, the Parkinson’s and Malfoy’s were good Pure-Blooded families of high standing- now Pansy’s father is starting to think she could do better,”

“So-”

“So, Pansy is in there stupidly-” her voice raised slightly, she took a breath her face returning to neutral, “Pansy is in there trying to get Draco to make it official by the end of the year,”

“So she wants to marry Draco?”

Lizzy’s jaw seemed to tighten further, “Draco- she sees Draco as an acceptable outcome. They’re friends at least,”

“Out of what other possibilities?” Ed asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Someone else,” she said with a shrug, “Someone she’s never met before,”

“But he can’t- her father can’t actually tell her who to marry, it’s not the middle ages!”

Lizzy let out a nasty laugh, “of course, legally her father has no say in any of it- Pansy can do whatever she likes, but-” Lizzy shook her head, the smile on her face showed too many teeth, “She won’t do it- won’t make her own fucking choice,” there was a choked off sound somewhere deep in her throat, and for a moment Ed wondered if she was going to cry. “See this- this is what I was talking about. This mentality, this echo chamber- whispering back tradition and family first- she’d resign herself to a loveless marriage,” she laughed, “and believe me it would be loveless- friendship can only stand so much resentment before it's torn away,”

“Liz-”

“She’d resign herself to that because to do otherwise would be a betrayal of her family. You’re right, we’re not in the middle ages anymore. No war would break out, no lives would be lost, if she chooses to make her own decision nothing happens. But for us- us children of snakes- we’re taught to do it anyway. Because we’re stronger together because we can only trust each other because breaking tradition makes us no better than the ones we crawl over to our goals.”

Ed was silent for a moment, “Do you really believe that?”

Lizzy laughed, “Of course not. And neither does she, not really- “ Lizzy’s voice cut off sharply, it sounded dead as she begun again, “but she’s scared, and I can’t help her,”

And with that, the other Slytherin turned and left. Leaving Ed all alone on the steps of Hogwarts.


	24. Antipathy

Slughorn’s party was on the last day of break. Something Ed had frankly, forgotten all about. Zabini, however, hadn’t shut his mouth- instead choosing to blight all their ears and darken each of their proverbial doorsteps as he delivered a never-ending monologue about which lady of Slytherin would be blessed to accompany him. So far, the only break had come when Blaise’s attention had veered from his own potential date to Ed’s.

“So how 'bout it? Who are you dragging along Eddie?”

Ed scowled, looking up from the journal in his hands- the code had changed in the more recent entries, and he wasn’t in the mood for gossip. “Don’t know,” he answered shortly, “Maybe I’ll take Luna Lovegood,” his words had the desired effect of shocking Zabini stupid. He'd chosen Luna for three reasons, 1) he knew it would irritate Zabini, 2) It would actually make for an interesting night, and 3) Luna… was really the only person he’d spoken to outside of Slytherin in ages. While it had toned down some, the he-maybe-tried-to-murder-someone rumors still led most kids to give him a wide berth.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Lizzy said speaking up from where she was reading by the common room fire, “But Potter’s beaten you out there I’m afraid,”

Zabini made a choked noise like he’d swallowed wrong, “You’re joking!”

“I’m really not,” she murmured, never lifting her eyes from the page she was on.

“I figured he would take… I don’t know? Granger?”

“Already invited,”

“The Weasley girl? They’re a thing right?”

“Already Invited and not currently,” 

“Damn,” Zabini muttered, he paused for a moment and Ed tough for a moment they might be blessed with a reprieve from his talking. But then, he spoke again. This time his words had lost their levity. "Has anyone noticed how severely underrepresented Slytherin’s are at this thing?”

Lizzy looked up for the first time, a brow raised skeptically. “You, Elric, the Carrow Twins, Jefferson, and Ramirez,” she said counting each member off on her fingers, “That’s certainly more than there are Hufflepuffs, and about equal to the number of Ravenclaws invited- I’m afraid I don’t follow?”

Zabini rolled his eyes, “Don’t be like that,” he scoffed, “Slughorn’s one of us, isn’t he? Seems like he’s forgotten his house pride,”

Lizzy hummed, and Ed didn’t fail to notice the way her knuckles seemed to whiten as her grip tightened. “He’d networking Blaise, it wouldn’t do to only pull from one pool,”

“Still!”

“I heard he’s trying to keep his nose clean,” Goyle spoke up.

Crabbe nodded beside him, “trying to keep away from people with certain... ties,” 

Ed was almost distracted by the fact he was certain Malfoy’s two goons had never made so much sense before. Almost, but not quite, distracted enough to notice the way Malfoy seemed to draw into himself with each passing moment. 

Crabbe and Goyle were right, and because of it, Lizzy’s list of attendants was missing a very significant name.

A year ago, Ed imagined, Lucius’s questionable connections wouldn’t have meant anything- Draco’s father had never been found guilty, so far all intents and purposes those who worked with him would have called him innocent. Even if they didn’t believe it, well, they would say, their hands were tied. The courts had cleared him after all. 

Pansy was curled up beside him, her hand clutched in his robes tightly- tensions still painfully high. Since returning to Hogwarts both Lizzy and herself had refrained from so much as looking at each other. Ed cleared his throat, cutting off the argument that was beginning to violently build between Zabini and Elizabeth about the importance of house loyalty, “What say you Pans?” He called to the black haired girl, “Who should I take to Slughorn’s thing now that I’ve been jilted by the combined efforts of Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter?”

She sniffled slightly and turned her chin up, “I haven't the faintest idea,” she replied coolly, “I agree with Blaise, Slughorn forgets his roots. I think the whole thing is ridiculous,”

Ed responded with a tight smile, instead of defusing tensions it seemed he’d only made things worse. He tried to tune them out as the yelling increased in volume and intensity until it became impossible. Blaise rose to his feet and stalked forward to loom over Lizzy, making himself seem far bigger than the slight Irish girl. Her eyes, in turn, were cold, brutal, and borderline murderous as she responded to each of his roars with words like silver blades. Pansy’s disaffected front was slowly falling apart across from him, her left-hand curling in on itself to pick away at her nail beds. Crabbe and Goyle seemed unsure of how to proceed, their instincts torn between backing Blaise up and an ingrained fear of Elizabeth’s wrath. Draco’s eyes seemed to grow ever more vacant- his limbs pulled tighter to his chest.

“Listen to me, you half-bred whore!” Zabini spat, the room seemed to draw a collective breath. Lizzy’s eyes appeared to darken even further, Blaise pulled back suddenly, blinking his eyes wildly as he seemed to become aware of what had just left his mouth. Draco jerked to his feet dislodging Pansy in the process and disappeared through the portrait hole without a glance backward.

“Okay,” Ed said rising to his feet. Taking a cautious step forward Ed placed himself between Zabini and Elizabeth, an off-putting parallel to his first real encounter with Blaise on the train. “I think that’s enough,”

Blaise locked his jaw tight as he spun around and disappeared up to their dorm room. Crabbe and Goyle took that as their cue and hurried out the same way Draco had, leaving Ed alone with vengeful Lizzy and an abandoned Pansy, still sitting on her hip, looking awkward without Draco to balance her.

“Are you alright?” He asked, doing his best to keep the rooms obvious tension from infecting his voice.

Lizzy let out a low cold laugh, “I’m fine, he’ll be less so when I’m through with him,”

“Liz-” Ed started reproachfully, only to cut off as her dark eyes trained on him. She turned without another word and disappeared away to the girl's dorm.

“She’ll come to her senses,” came a quiet voice. Pansy had adjusted herself to a more comfortable position, though the way she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest made her seem years younger, “She’s good like that, never lets her emotions control her for too long,”

Ed let out a sigh as he seated himself across from her, aware suddenly that it wasn’t just Lizzy and Blaise’s fight they were talking about. “You really think so?”

Pansy nodded with the surety that only people trying to convince themselves had.

“You two have been friends for a long time haven’t you?”

Pansy gave a little laugh, “I hated her so much when we first met,”

“Really?”

I small smile crossed her face, Ed doubted she even knew it was there, “You have no idea,” Pansy shook herself, the wistful expression on her face disappearing, “I couldn’t stand her and her perfect speech, her poise-” she sighed, “Lizzy just commanded every room she walked into. She was the daughter my parents had always wanted and she wasn’t even a Pure Blood.”

Ed frowned, the classification bringing to mind Blaise’s harsh spat insult.

“Of course,” Pansy said swallowing, “Then I actually got to get to know her- we were partnered up in Herbology- and I found out that she was the most sarcastic, ill-humored, monster of a human being and I loved her for it. She became my... secret rebellion." she said with a laugh, "In the eyes of my parents she was a perfect friend, well spoken and lower off socially- so she couldn’t become a threat to my prospects,” Pansy added as an aside in a mocking voice that Ed found eerily similar to Lizzy’s. “But in reality, she was just so much more fun than that,”

“But she doesn’t want you to marry Draco?” Ed asserted, feeling a “but” approaching,

Pansy gave him a skeptical look, “jumping a bit forward in the story Ed,”

“Sorry,”

She shrugged, “and it’s not like she has anything against Draco in particular. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she has opinions- she has opinions on everyone. She just does understand that I don’t have a backup like my brother did. Ezekia had me to take over- I don’t have anyone.”

“I mean, she doesn’t really have a backup either does she?”

Pansy laughed, “but Ed, the difference is, she doesn’t care! Lizzy fucking hates her family! I don’t. For all they might be, I love my parents and I love my brother and I won’t let them down like that.”

“Um, look, this might sound kind of stupid,” Ed rubbed the back of this head absently, “But I don’t really get… how it’s letting your family down to- I mean, to marry who you want,”

“We are, the only Parkinson's left,” she said with a finality that said that she thought that would be enough for Ed to understand. When she saw that it wasn’t she tried again. “As things stand, any child my brother has may be ours in name, but not in blood. Whereas- at least if I marry Draco our bloodline will continue,”

“Why is that so important?” he asked, genuinely wondering.

She fixed him with a look, “Do you really not know?”

Ed froze, “My… my father wasn’t really around and my mother was a muggle,”

“Oh,” Pansy said quietly, “well, as far as anyone can tell, magic is passed through blood- Muggle blood dilutes the magic. The fear is,” she winced, “the fear is, that if we allow that to continue someday they’ll be no Witches and Wizards anymore,”

Elizabeth’s biting words came back to him then, her grandmother's wish that she find herself a good Pure Blooded husband to dilute her Muggle blood. In a way, he understood the theory, but he felt that the sheer amount of Half-Bloods and Muggle-Borns had to at least in some way negate that theory. That this idea of “blood purity” was no more than xenophobic rhetoric pushed by the kind of people that followed Voldemort- if not physically, than his ideals.

“Do you really think that?” Ed asked, cautiously.

Pansy shrugged, “My family does, that’s what's important. To do anything else would be to spit in the face of what they stand for,”

“Pans…” Ed hesitated, “but what if what they believe doesn’t help anybody, what if you doing this just keeps the cycle going?”

She frowned but didn’t respond.

“Pans-”

“See you later Ed,” she cut him off and turned, leaving the common room.

\---

“Edward my boy!” Slughorn called out to him as he entered the potion master’s office. The professor was in the midst of an animated discussion with several men Ed had never seen before, all of which were eyeing the food table longingly and took his appearance as the necessary distraction to disappear.

“Professor,” Ed said with a nod, intending to disappear into the crowd. Slughorn had other plans it seemed, as he appeared at Ed’s side much faster than Ed thought possible for a man his size.

“I admit I begun to fear we’d have to go on without you!” he crowed as he pressed a glass of something into Ed’s hand.

Ed gave a polite laugh he’d learned from Elia, “lost track of time I’m afraid,” in actuality he’d become tangled in his dress robes and none of his housemates had felt inclined to help him. Draco was still missing, Zabini had found it horribly funny, and neither Lizzy nor Pansy were feeling particularly affable towards him at the moment.

“Well,” Slughorn said with a wide smile, “You’re here now,” The older man placed a firm hand on his left shoulder and began to steer Edward through the flock of guests. “Harry! Harry!” Slughorn called out and Ed felt himself repress a wince as Slughorn pulled him towards the black haired wizard in question.

“Oh, ‘hello Edward,” Harry said awkwardly as the Professor shoved them together, “Fun party?” he tried.

“Only just got here myself,” Ed said through a tight smile. Anything they might have wanted to say to each other hindered by Slughorn’s presence.

“Oh hello Edward Elric,” came a familiar dreamy voice.

“Luna,” he said with a nod, not fully aware of how to proceed- they’d last left off awkwardly, at least from Ed’s point of view.

“You two know each other?” Harry asked in surprise, glancing between the two of them.

“Yeah, Neville kinda introduced us back in October,” 

“Well I for one am glad to you- all,” he amended to include Luna, “are good friends! House Rivalries are so harsh these days. Why, back when I was a student…” Slughorn trailed off as the door to his office swung open, framing Filch in the low orange light.

“Let go of me!” Malfoy hissed, trying to yank himself out of Filch’s iron grip.

“Now what’s this?” Slughorn asked, a smile plastered across his face. His grin just too wide to be genuine.

“He says he was invited, but somehow how he can’t manage to produce an invite,” Filch leered as he tightened his grip on Malfoy’s collar.

Malfoy’s mouth snapped open but Ed cut him off before he could get a word out, “He’s with me,” Everyone's eyes jumped to Ed, Harry’s gaze downright incredulous. “He doesn’t have an invitation because he’s with me,” Ed started again, “I left earlier because we were already running late,” he added to Slughorn.

The potion master gave a laugh, “of course, of course. There’s no need to restrain the boy Argus! Just a simple misunderstanding,” Slughorn turned his gaze to Draco with a tight smile “Welcome to the party Mr. Malfoy,” Draco managed a nod in the professor's direction, “even if you are… a bit underdressed,” 

Draco’s cheeks took on a faint reddish tone. While Draco’s everyday clothes were far nicer than Ed’s, they certainly weren’t Dress Robes. “Sorry Sir, I-” Ed interrupted Draco’s floundering defense as he stepped forward and pressed his untouched glass into his hand.

“Sorry professor,” Ed said over his shoulder, “I think Master Flamel’s introverted tendencies rubbed off on me, this is all on me.” Slughorn gave a deep laugh as murmurs seemed to pick up in the guests surrounding the potion master. Well, he’d certainly distracted them from Draco.

“Did you say-”

“Master Flamel, you mean the Alchemist?”

“Arias Howell,” a man jutted his hand out towards Ed, “I was a member of The Most Excellent Society of Potioneers with Flamel-”

“Very nice to meet you,” Ed said through Elia’s smile, “Draco!” Ed said before the man could manage to properly start a conversation. “How about we get some food? I haven't had the chance yet,”

“Right,” Draco said, blinking the confusion out of his eyes and adopting a carefully practiced mask of indifference. As they walked Ed could feel multiple sets of eyes land on his back. Some were curious, guests eggar to see Flamel’s apprentice, but others were calculating. Harry, Hermione- yes, that was Ginny standing by the pillar to his left, and… It took Ed a good minute to track the last gaze back to its source. Looming far in the corner, an air of darkness and calculating intrigue clinging to him, Severus Snape watched.

For just a second Ed let their eyes meet. The movement was subtle and otherwise unrecognizable to an outsider, but it was long enough for the message to come across loud and clear- they would be having words later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, really meant to get this out yesterday- internet was shit.


	25. Dissonance

“Why did you cover for me,” Draco mumbled quietly under his breath as he loaded food onto his plate one-handed, his left still clenched around the glass Ed had pressed into it.

Ed let out a low hum as someone passed a little too close for comfort. Somewhere across the room, he could make out Zabini’s laugh. There was no way the other Slytherin had missed Draco’s entrance, though if he was going to do anything about it remained to be seen. “What,” Ed said, placing a slice of apple pie on to his plate, his thoughts immediately turning to Winry and Gracia. “Can’t I just help a friend out?”

Draco gave Ed a blank look that told him just how much Malfoy appreciated that answer.

“Look,” Ed sighed, “I don’t know- I mean, I’m not lying when I said I was just helping you out,”

Draco snorted- something Ed doubted the Malfoy heir would have done if not for the sizable gap between themselves and the other party goers, “no alternative motives- you expect me to believe that?”

Ed shrugged, “hey, believe whatever you want Malfoy- it’s no skin off my back,”

“Ed-”

“Draco,” he brushed back his cowlicks as they escaped from his braid, “You know, sometimes people don’t actually want anything. Sometimes people just do things because they’re nice things to do,”

The pale blonde let out an abrupt sound halfway between an exhale and a laugh, “not in my experience,”

Ed couldn’t respond to that. Even worse was, Malfoy was right- Ed did want something. Perhaps it wasn’t material as an object or vague as a favor, but Ed still wanted something out of all of this. Ed wanted Draco’s trust.

He wasn’t an idiot- he’d known what Draco was getting up to all those nights he stayed out late. Perhaps not the specific mechanisms of his time out, but enough to be sure that whatever reason Draco had for stalking around tonight was likely on the behest of the Death Eaters. Theoretically Snape knew too, and theoretically, he also knew that Ed knew- but, because it was Dumbledore, Ed didn’t know how much Snape had been told about him- and frankly, how much Dumbledore had even told him personally about the plan.

Ed let out a low sigh as he took another glass off a passing tray. He couldn’t help but despair about how meaningless this all felt at times. It had been going on for a while now- this internal push and pull. The part of him that still held those romantic visions of heroism, the idea that if you just tried hard enough you could save everyone, urged him to help Draco, to help Harry- to trust the relationships he’d formed in this world. But there existed inside of him this voice that murmured that it wasn’t his responsibility. That his responsibility lay a universe away, and every second he spent here was a betrayal of that responsibility, of his friends, of Alphonse.

“You know, I never thought the time would come where both Snape and I were in a room together and neither of us was the object of Potter’s scorn,”

“Hmm?” Ed perked up, tugging himself out of his dark thoughts.

Draco gestured with his chin across the room, “Potter, he’s making murder eyes at you,”

“Murder eyes?”

“Oh you know,” Draco said with an air of false authority, “like bedroom eyes- but instead of fucking you, he wants to fuck you up,”

Ed snorted, “huh, well acquainted with that are you Draco?”

It was Malfoy’s turn to laugh now, “Are you kidding me? I’m going to be filthy fucking rich when I’m older- people have been looking at me like that my entire life,” Draco’s grin held for a second before sliding off into something more neutral, “or at least they were,”

“Draco-”

He raised his brows as he gestured with his still full glass,  “Course, I can’t say that's the worst thing to come of all of this. This is probably the first party I’ve ever been to without being accosted at least three times before I’ve reached the food table.” He waved his hand at the spread beside them, “I don’t even know what to do with all this time,” he laughed, but there was a forced edge to it.

“So what were you up to?” Ed asked. He doubted Draco would give him the truth- but it would have been more suspicious for him not to say anything.

Draco finally raised the glass to his lips and drank, “nothing- just walking,”

“Hey,” Ed said with a laugh, “Doesn’t your valent rescuer deserve an actual answer?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “there you go, asking for something. Whatever happened to doing something for nothing?”

Ed raised his hands up mockingly, “Okay, okay. I won’t ask,” Though they both treated it as a joke, Ed could feel the invisible line they were dancing on. 

“I just needed to get some air,” Draco said, his eyes dropping to his occupied hands, “Things… were getting tense earlier,”

Ed nodded in agreement, “You don’t have to tell me that. I thought Zabini was going to lose his head there at the end,”

“Nah, she’d never do something so visible,” it was said with the undertone of humor, but Ed couldn’t help but feel there was a grain of truth to Draco’s words. “She’s a much bigger fan of small things that just add up, driving you crazy until you come begging at her feet for relief from the seemingly small inconveniences that appear,”

“That’s… messed up,”

Draco snorted, “I’m not unconvinced she won’t take over the world someday,”

Ed frowned as a thought occurred to him, “Then why isn’t she here? I mean, if Slughorn’s trying to collect future influential people, why leave her off?”

Draco shrugged, “Because on paper she’s unimpressive. She might be an heiress, but she stays off most other radars- average grades, average classes.”

“Why? Because of her… grandmother?”

Draco sent him a look, “Gave you that talk did she? Yeah, they’d be the reason,”

“I thought-” Ed frowned it’s just that, “Pansy said that Lizzy hates her family, and with how much she disapproves of,” Ed gestured vaguely towards Draco, “I wouldn’t think that she would…?”

“She might not like them,” Draco said with a shrug, Zabini’s laugh rolling over the crowd somewhere to their left, “But right now she needs them. Soon as all this,” he gave a general wave to the room around them, “is over, she’s gone. She’s frustrated because she’s confident in her ability to make it on her own- Pans loves her family, and cares more about their happiness than her own,”

“And what about you?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, you’re the one she’s supposed to marry, how do you feel about all of this?”

Draco gave an absent shrug, “I don’t really care to be honest. I mean, we’re friends- that’s something at least, but-” he sighed, “I don’t love her if that’s what you’re wondering, at least in that way,” Zabini’s voice crescendoed again drawing their attention to where the boy stood next to the two starry-eyed Carrow twins, “Love never had anything to do with it,” He added absently, “Getting married is just what you do next…”

“That seems…” But Ed couldn’t find the right word for how sad that felt to him.

“I take it you’re not engaged then?”

“What? No?” Ed blinked at him in confusion, “no, no- I’m not-”

Draco laughed quietly into his glass, “relax, I’m just messing with you,” He raised a brow, “When I first met you I assumed that you and Elia…”

“No,” Ed shook his head, “We were friends… she was a good friend,” he felt like a weight had settled on his heart, a cold vise-like thing that smelt of smoke and burnt flesh.

“I’m sorry,” Draco replied quietly. There was nothing forced about the apology, low and mournful and genuine, nothing Ed would have expected out of Malfoy.

Ed opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. The two of them just stood there for a moment in the center of the pulsing living mass of people, letting the sounds of life wash over them.

“Mr. Elric,” The low drawl caused a knee jerk reaction in the two boys as their head of house appeared over Ed’s shoulder.

“Professor,” Ed said with a nod in Snape’s direction. This was all happening much sooner than he’d expected. He’d figured the man would have him pulled aside after class or called to his office. Why was he… Oh.

The look on Draco’s face was practically thunderous, “Mr. Elric a word please,”

“Sir, I-”

“Mr. Malfoy seems properly fed, I assume he can survive unaccompanied for a few moments,” Ed glance back over at his friend for just a moment before Snape’s hand closed around his shoulder, “Now, Mr. Elric,”

“Draco, I’ll-”

“Just go Ed,” Malfoy said, already turning away.

The professor directed him through the crowd and out into the hall without acknowledging so much as a person along the way. Snape was clearly the odd Slytherin who didn’t hold with the idea of Decorum above everything.

“Talk,” he said, boxing Ed in against a stone wall,

“Care to be a bit more specific?” Ed hissed. Right now they weren’t professor and student, just two men in on the same secret.

“Mr. Malfoy. What are you doing?”

“Doing? Well, we were having a pleasant conversation up until a moment ago,” He said, purposefully sidestepping Snape’s question.

“Do not test me, Elric-”

“Do not test me,” He growled back, “I have no desire to play this fucking game,” he spat, carefully enunciating each word, “I’m just trying to help my friend,”

Snape’s eyes narrowed, “Your friend,”

Ed threw his hands up in the air, “Yes!” he bit back a bitter laugh, “I’m not the fucking mastermind everybody seems to think I am, he’s my friend-” he took a step towards Snape, “and I’m helping him.”

“If you work against-”

Ed rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to cause problems, Sir- I just don’t want to see him dead and traumatized. Sorry if that’s an inconvenience,” As Ed pulled away from the man, he felt a faint brush against his senses, a warning. Harry. That little shit…

“Goddamn it…” Ed muttered under his breath. That kid just didn’t know how to mind his own business.

“What was that?”

Ed gave a spiteful grin and swung his arm out in a way he knew would nearly hit Harry, “Oh, just that it's a shame I’m missing the party for this,” His action was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from the hidden boy. From the way, the professor’s eyes darkened, it was clear he caught it.

“I see.” He said stiltedly

“Goodnight Professor,” Ed said as he turned on his heel, disappearing back towards Slughorn’s before he could be pulled back.

Ed ducked around a corner and waited until the pulse of lingering energy neared him. Closer, closer- Ed jerked his arm out catching hold of Harry tightly and removing his cloak in one fell swoop. Harry stumbled backward, hair a mess and glasses crooked.

“You knew I was there?” Harry asked, his voice laced with wariness.

“Knew you were there last time too,”

“What? Last time?”

“In the woods, having Hermione corner me like that- practically Slytherin that move,” For whatever reason that comment seemed to make Harry uncomfortable.

“How?”

Ed shot him a patronizing smile, his tolerance for people having been drastically lowered by Snape’s impromptu interrogation, “Magic,”

Harry scowled. The disgust and irritation in the look brought to mind a certain blond- the both of them would hate to know that had something in common.

“See Harry,” he started, “how I know isn’t important at the moment, what’s important is that you’ve been digging in things not meant for you-”

“Not meant for me!” Harry blew up, “You’re palling around with Death Eaters! How is that not my business?”

Ed lunged forward and grabbed hold tightly to Harry’s collar, “Harry Potter, you listen to me very carefully. If I really was a Death Eater, there was very little you could have said that would have been stupider than that.” Harry yanked backward and Ed let him go, his point made. Harry wasn’t an idiot, but for all his triumphs, he lacked experience, discipline- Truth he sounded like Mustang.

Harry looked at him with an unreadable expression, “Who are you?”

Ed straightened, meeting the boys gaze evenly, “No one,”

“No one?”

“I was never meant to be apart of any of this,” Ed said, trying to keep the almost wistful tone from his voice, “But, I’m doing what I can to minimize the damage done to others,”

“By helping Death Eaters?” Harry asked incredulously,”

Ed let out a quite tisk as he winced, “No, that’s not what-” He stopped, “Harry, people aren’t just either good or evil, sometimes they make mistakes, and sometimes they need people to pull them back,”

“I don’t-” Harry’s eyes took on a faraway look to them, “Sirius once said something very similar to me,” He paused, “It was a lot easier to be understanding of moral grey areas before he was murdered,”

“He was right-”

Harry continued as if he hadn’t heard Ed at all, “I can’t imagine what he would think of you now- siding with the people who killed him,” Ed let out a low growl and opened his mouth to snap back, only to be cut off before he could, “He cared for you Ed,” Harry sounded hurt, lost, “He cared for you, and now…”

“Sirius would understand,” Ed said quietly, though he couldn’t tell which of them he was trying to convince.

“He would, would he? Would have given you a fucking pat on the back?” Harry’s sharp words cut, but not nearly as deep as they once would have. If he’d gained anything this year it was a thick skin. “So, are you just a full-blooded Death Eater,” Harry continued, “or is it more of a weekend thing?”

Ed huffed as he tugged up the sleeve of his dress robe to show Harry his clean arm, “No Harry, I’m not a Death Eater- I’m trying to save one of my friends from making a choice he’ll regret.” he said as he tugged the sleeve back down and over his glove, “If associating with people who make my skin crawl mean that I live through this mess, that the people I care about can be helped- can be saved, I’ll do it.” As the words rolled off his tongue he found himself surprised with the ease in which he’d lumped Draco in with his friends and family back in Amestris.

Harry was silent for a moment, looking at him with just the oddest expression, “I saw them hunting you,”

“What?”

“Once, I saw them, the Death Eaters, I saw them hunting you,”

Ed’s eyes narrowed almost involuntarily as he stepped towards the other boy, “What do you mean Harry,”

“They called him- Voldemort, to this house in the country. Some Death Eater called Rosier-” Ed felt his body go cold, his limbs tingling faintly as he stumbled backward, “He- he killed everyone,” Harry breathed, “They were looking for a Golden-Eyed boy- for you Ed. He was furious at them for letting you go… for letting the Order take you. Sirius-” Harry’s voice caught slightly, “Sirius knew they were looking for you the second I described what I’d seen-”

“-He was the one who got me out,” Ed said quietly, his words just above a whisper, his mind far away overlooking the burnt bodies of his friends.

“Of where?”

“They- the Death Eater’s had me, before the Order,”

Harry shook his head and gave a noise of stilted frustration, “Then why? Ed- I just don’t get it! If they were after you- If they held you prisoner- how can you-?”

“-Are,”

“What?”

“They weren’t after me, they are after me, Harry,”

“I don’t-”

“The Dark Lord wants me, Edward Elric, independently of what you saw. Pyxis- Rosier, the Death Eater you saw- he’s the only one whos been able to figure out that we’re one and the same, and he- those people, the one's Pyxis, and Voldemort killed, they were-” Ed stumbled over his words, “The daughter, she and I were apprentices together- they killed them because they were housing me,”

“So why not come back? Why not let the Order protect you?” Harry asked his voice strained with confusion.

Ed let out a weak laugh, “It was too late- by the time the Rosier’s were dead... others had been made aware of me. Lucius was trying to-” Ed waved his hand dismissively, “Nevermind it doesn’t matter,” his fingers tangled in his hair as he brushed it aside, “The point is, people had taken note. I never would have been allowed to slip back into the shadows unnoticed. If I had gone to the Order, I risked the Dark Lord making the connection between me and the boy he was hunting- It would have been too much of a coincidence. Nothing would have stopped him,”

“Dumbledore-”

“-Dumbledore isn’t infallible Harry,”

Harry couldn’t seem to decide if he was irritated or offended by Edward’s quick dismissal of the headmaster, his face contorting several times before he spoke again. “I still don’t understand why you would willingly put yourself among Death Eaters if you were trying to avoid them,”

Ed laughed, “I think ‘willingly’ might be a bit of a stretch,” He hesitated, “I was taught a long time ago that sometimes the best way to act against someone is to appear to follow their lead. Even people like Voldemort have a deep-seated belief of their own righteousness, resisting invites scrutiny. The most protected position is the one they forget to question,”

“So you would just stand by?” Harry looked vaguely disgusted, “Allow him to do what he wants to save your own neck?"

Ed shook his head, “No, Harry that’s what I would do if I was a smarter, colder man.” He gave a bitter laugh, “Instead, I’m on a fucking fool's errand trying to save anyone within arms reach,”

“Is that-” Harry hesitated, “Is that what you’re trying to do with Malfoy?”

Ed let out a low sigh, it seemed they’d come full circle, “I suppose,”

“I’m not sure if that's possible.” Harry said shaking his head, “Frankly, I’ve known him since we were eleven- maybe once, once upon a time he could have been made better- but now?” Harry stilled with resolution, “there’s a line you can’t come back from. A big skull and snake line, Ed,”

Ed nodded, feeling his hands clench slightly at his sides, “I think that’s where we’ll have to agree to disagree. It’s true that there are people, evil vile people too far gone to help- I just don’t think he’s one of them,” Harry opened his mouth to reply but Ed cut him off, wished him goodnight, and turned back into Slughorn’s office. When he reached the food table, a discarded glass and still full plate of food made it clear Draco had gone ages ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof meant to have this out much earlier. In fact, it sat mostly finished on my laptop for most of the week- but, sometimes life takes a personal vendetta against writing time, and so here we are.


	26. Antitoxin

Harry could barely bring himself to return to the party after his confrontation with Ed. Their conversation had ended with such an air of finality to it, he wasn’t quite sure what would happen if they ran into each other again inside. But Luna was still waiting for him, and for all the violent emotions wreaking havoc inside his head, he still wasn’t that much of a dick to leave her stranded.

It turned out he had nothing to worry about, as by the time he’d let himself back in, Ed had disappeared. Something, a more than tipsy Slughorn was muttering about as he passed. Harry found Luna standing with Hermione along the far wall, and Cormac Mclaggen stood beside them looking deeply off-put by the two girls discussion of a magic brain-eating parasite.

“Oh, ‘lo Harry,” Luna said with a little wave, “back from the loo are we?”

“Er, yeah- no, I was thinking that we could- that it’s getting a bit late-”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Hermione said with a little more enthusiasm than was strictly natural, “how about you Cormac? Feel like turning in for the night?”

The boy blinked dumbly, still looking vaguely sickened- “I, yes- that sounds… good,”

“Wonderful!” Hermione said clapping her hands together in an over eager manner, that Harry knew she’d lifted right off Lavender Brown.

The four of them slipped from the room without fanfare. Both Harry and Hermione looking to avoid Slughorn’s notice or else be dropped into further conversation. The two groups split from each other so Harry could walk Luna back to her dorm while Cormac awkwardly led Hermione back to the Gryffindor common room.

“I like him,”

“Hmm?” Harry hummed, turning towards Luna as they walked, moonlight woven through her pale hair and glancing off the baubles she’d hung in it for the occasion.

“Edward,” She replied, “I think he’s nice,”

“Nice?” Harry balked, he didn’t mean for his words to come out as harsh as they had- but of all descriptors, both positive and negative, that he could have thought of- nice never entered into the picture.

Luna hummed, reaffirming her statement, “He’s scared, on the back foot, and untrusting, but he’s kind. You can see it when he doesn’t think anyone is watching,”

“I’ll take your word for it,” They walked in silence for a few more steps before Luna spoke up again.

“He always thanks the House Elves,”

“What?”

“Ed,”

“Oh, I can’t say I’ve ever noticed that,”

“You don’t,”

“What?” Harry said blinking back at her, “What are you talking about? I mean, sure, I might not be lining up to join S.P.E.W. but I still care,” he finished unhappily.

She shrugged, “I didn’t say you didn’t,” She tilted her head and sent him a significant look, her baubles tinkling softly, “I’m not insulting you, Harry, I’m just saying that he takes the time. Even people who care don’t always do that,”

“So that’s your proof that he’s good?” Harry replied a tad defensively, Luna’s observation had made him uncomfortable. “You would think sun must have shown out of Sirius’s little brother’s ass, the way Kretcher talks about him, and I mean, he was still a Death Eater!” Harry threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. 

“Pipe down young man!” A portrait hissed from their left, “Some of us are trying to sleep!”

Harry’s cheeks colored and he drew in a deep breath, “Sorry Luna, I didn’t mean to yell,” he said quietly.

She gave him a small smile, “It’s quite alright Harry, I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” together they stopped in front of the door to Ravenclaw tower, “And, for what it’s worth Harry- I think you’re a good person too,”

\---

Apparition, Ed decided, was even worse than the already low opinion of it that he held. With his first experience with it, when Remus and Sirius rescued him from the Death Eater’s, he’d written off his discomfort as a combination of the chaotic nature of the day and his inexperience with magic. However, life had soon set out to prove to him that even in controlled circumstances Apparition had been conceived by the devil himself. Edward Elric wanted no part in any such nonsense.

He quickly learned that this put him in the minority, and that there were only so many times Zabini could call him a coward before Edward would break his nose. However, it was in voicing his frustrations offhandedly to Madam Pomfrey while getting the warming spell for his vessels renewed that he found himself permanently sidelined, officially.

Because, splinching- a term that already sounded fucking awful on its own- she feared could be potentially deadly. Due to the fact that almost half of Ed’s body wasn’t nearly as readily movable as the rest of him. When you apparated alongside someone it was like throwing out a net and dragging them along for the ride, she explained. With his automail lacking a natural flow of magic, the healer was worried the process could quite literally rip him apart if he tried on his own.

So, one doctor's note later, Ed remained firmly planted in the common room while all the other Slytherins in their year gathered in the Great Hall to willingly transpose their molecules from place to place. The ensuing freedom presented Ed with the silence he’d been lacking for ages now, and the time to finally work his way through the journal.

He had to admit, he felt as if he was intruding upon something personal as he flipped his way through the pages. The contents, while discussing the Elder Wand and other Deathly Hallows quite extensively, did have a tendency to lean towards the private. By the time of the first mention of “For the Greater Good,” came around, Ed was convinced that the author, whoever they were, was head over heels for their mysterious research partner, G. But, soon after that point in the writing things changed. The code shifted, becoming more complex, and when decoded, the writing it was hiding was darker.

The innocent curiosity and wonder from the beginning was all but gone, the writer began more and more so to flirt with dark ideas. Proving the Hollows were real was replaced with talks of what he and G would do as the “Masters of Death”. It filled Ed’s stomach with dread, a hollow aching thing- not only because Ed feared he understood who at least one of the partners was now, thanks to Draco's previous moment of word association, but because he recognized the spiraling thought in front of him as his own.

Somewhere, buried and burned in the ruins of a house on a hill a universe away, was a journal not too different than what lay before him. A journal Ed himself had penned. Beginning with his and Al’s first forays into the world of Alchemy and ending with that fateful transmutation circle.

Ed forced the book away from him, the cover striking the work desk with a dull thud. He was sure that he’d found it, the first real concrete clue towards his goal, but it was more horrific than he could have imagined. He was prepared for violence and death and corruption, but he was not ready to see his own thought processes reflected back at him in the eyes of a Mad Man.

\---

“You look pale,” Draco murmured to him as they sat at lunch. Ed found himself unable to touch any of the food put before him, eyeing the spread with only a cold vacant detachment.

Ed hummed, not able to make himself respond.

“Zabini splinched himself today,”

“Hmm,”

“We weren’t supposed to try and move, but he did it anyway,”

“Sucks,”

“Yeah,” Draco muttered, turning his attention back to his soup. The girls were both there, one planted on either side of the Crabbe/Goyle duo, neither of them speaking. Draco had planted himself to Ed’s left, the last seat on the bench, effectively stopping Pansy from joining him.

“What did you get up to today?” Pans asked quietly, trying to break the silence that enveloped them.

“Read,”

“Oh,” she smiled, “anything good?”

“Fucking nightmare fuel,”

“Ah, lovely,” and that was that, all further attempts at conversation were over before they could begin.

After the day’s classes were over, Ed didn’t bother heading to dinner, instead, he took advantage of the lack of people to take a shower. A shower he followed up with wandering, wandering that he followed up with… more wandering. For a moment he considered going to speak to Madam Price, to apologize to her as he now understood the context of what he’d said. But, in the end, the thought of being surrounded by so many books after the day he’d had, set him on edge enough, that he finally returned to the common room.

Draco was the only one in the dorm when he got up the stairs, lounging on his bed reading The Daily Prophet. The other boy didn’t so much as acknowledge him as he entered the room, but when Ed made it to his bunk there was a small plate of food waiting for him.

\---

On the surface, February continued with much of the same. Apparition lessons continued without change, Draco still kept odd hours, and Zabini was still a right prick most of the time. But, if one looked closer they could see the slight shifting. See how the bags under Draco’s eyes began to darken again, how Lizzy and Pansy returned to their places besides one another but retained the air of coldness between them, and Ed becomes quieter, more reserved, as he slowly tackled the journal piece by bitter piece.

The odd, not quite normalcy of their small group seemed to permeate the entire school, students and teachers alike quietly holding their breath waiting for the next blow to land. Daily reports of missing witches and wizards were eyed with suspicion- as horrible as they were, there was a lingering feeling of much worse to come. 

The announcement was posted on the common room door when they awoke the next morning, in thick red lettering was the notice that the Valentine’s trip to Hogsmeade had been canceled. Pansy kicked up a fuss about it, as did a few of the other Slytherin’s engaged in relationships, but privately Ed thought that many of them seemed relieved to have some pressure to perform taken off.

“Draco,” Ed called out, approaching the other boy where he sat slumped in the armchair by the fire. “Have you got any idea about what Slughorn wants on this advanced antidotes essay? I’ve covered basically all I could think of- and trust me it was a lot, but I can’t figure out how to fill this last half a foot without retreading what I’ve already said,”

“God help us all,” came a cry from one of the other study tables, “If Elric can’t even finish it we’re fucked seven ways to Sunday!”

Draco rolled his head lazily to look at him, he seemed exhausted. “If you can’t figure it out without restating things, then restate things, Ed,”

He frowned, “If Slughorn only wanted five and a half feet of information he wouldn’t have assigned six,”

“Please, you ever think about how many of these fucking things he has to read? If your paper is at least semi-coherent, not either the first or last one he reads, and fills all six feet he really won’t care,” Draco grumbled as he yanked Ed’s mess of parchment from him and looked over it, “Christ, has anyone ever told you, you have the handwriting of a demented seven-year-old?”

“They never really stop,” Ed muttered as he lunged to reclaim his work. “What about you then? How much have you gotten done?”

“Nothing,”

“Draco!”

Malfoy waved off his protests unconcerned, “It isn’t due until the first week in March, that’s ages away,”

“No,” Ed corrected, “the final draft isn’t due until March, we’ve still got preliminary stuff to turn in beforehand, remember? Once we turn in the general essay we have to narrow our search window down and focus on more specific types,”

Again, Draco seemed unconcerned, “Sure, but those are only small grades- it's the final that actually matters,”

Ed’s brow furrowed in frustration at Draco’s mood. He thought they’d gotten past the point of the flippant nonchalant attitude. “Sure, Draco, but only if you want to end up with a middling grade overall,” he said lowering his voice, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Into-?” he scoffed, “you’re kidding me right? Take a look around you, Ed, it doesn’t matter. None of this,” he waved his hand gesturing around the room, “none of this matters. It's a functional purgatory until whatever happens at the end of the year happens- personally, I’m of the belief, that my school grades aren’t gonna matter a whole ton.” Draco sank back into his chair, an ugly look across his face.

Ed took a step back, his teeth clenched tightly in his mouth. This- his plan, his gentle attempts at guidance, at giving help and support to Draco, it wasn’t working. He needed to find himself a plan B.  Everything was a mess, and he needed at least this to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one has a couple weird bits in it, I did edit, but I had a fever while writing some of it, so I wouldn't be surprised if I missed something.


	27. Poison

Ed returned to his dorm and tossed his essay aside with a sigh. He needed to clear his head, think things through and pick it up again later. Right now he had more pressing issues. Firstly, he needed to know exactly how Draco planned to kill Dumbledore. Obviously, the necklace had been less of a planned attack and more of a moment of panic, a plan born of stress and mounting pressure. But if that was the case, what had Draco been building?

Ed rubbed a hand over his face in frustration as he stood at the foot of his bed. Okay- firstly, who would Draco tell? Not Snape clearly. If how angry he’d seemed at the man during Slughorn’s party, and the fact that Dumbledore hadn’t been able to tell him Draco’s intended method, was anything to judge by. Of course, there was a chance Dumbledore just… hadn’t told him. But even if Snape knew, the potions master wouldn’t be jumping to help Ed anytime soon.

So, other candidates. Pansy? No, definitely not. Lizzy, hell no- Ed wouldn’t put it past her to know, but if she did it wasn’t because Draco had confided in her. Zabini? Not even worth thinking about. Crabbe and or Goyle? No-

Ed froze mid-thought. No. He wouldn’t tell them. But- he might still be using them. Ed’s mind dredged up a flood of memories of the two grunts following behind Malfoy like guards. Their fathers were Death Eaters, even if they didn’t know exactly what Malfoy was up to, their discretion could easily be won. 

If Malfoy didn’t confide in them they were still useless in terms of information- but, they could be significantly easier track and follow than Malfoy. Now just came the question of how. Ed had no illusions about his ability to fade into a crowd at Hogwarts. Surrounded by other kids and adults all with at least a basic idea of where people were supposed to be during the day and his own reputation in tow, it wouldn’t be easy. But did he need to be unnoticed? By Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, sure- but the rest of the student body? Would it matter? Would his moving around outside of class and unaccompanied by the other Slytherin’s actually cause enough of a stir that Draco would get suspicious?

Ed let out a low sigh and tossed himself backward on his mattress, kneading at the bridge of his nose with his automail hand. The unforgiving metal didn’t do much but aggravate his growing headache further but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment. He just lay there listening to the dull clicking coming from his shoulder as he tried to put his thoughts in order. At that moment he couldn’t even muster up a weak internal outrage as he realized how much he fucking missed Mustang. The way the bastard could collect information from all his little toy soldiers and just… make it all work. He missed all of them, Breda and Fury and Havoc and Hawkeye’s easy weighted gaze. As formidable as McGonagall was and as mothering as Molly was they paled in comparison to Hawkeye’s genuine unbreakable strength. For everything, she’d done for Al and him…

Oh fuck- Ed’s fist clenched as his brother’s face appeared in his mind, biting back tears his eyes pinched together tightly. He missed Al more than he could possibly articulate. The absence of his kindness and solid presence in his life left a gaping ugly hollow thing in his chest. He’d been doing his best to shove down those feelings knowing that if he stopped to dwell- to think about- he’d be lost. It had been almost two years since he’d seen his little brother. Even before he’d been wrenched free from Amestris it had been the longest he’d ever been separated from him. It had been easier then because there was a purpose- but this? This was senseless pain.

A dull knock echoed against the doorframe of his dorm room. Ed shot upward, cursing under his breath as his he moved to scrub his hand across his eyes. It was useless he knew, but he couldn’t help but try and hide it as his gaze jerked up to meet the intruder.

“Sorry,” Lizzy said, backlit by the glow of the stairs.

“What do you want?” his voice was tight and painful, giving him away even if the redness of his eyes hadn’t.

“Checking to see if you were coming to dinner,”

“What-” Ed scoffed unkindly, “and you thought I couldn’t manage to find my own way?” She didn’t seem fazed by his tone and Ed was struck with the sudden realization that this was the first time they’d been alone since her row with Zabini.

“Actually I was planning to warn you that some of the second years just got a large shipment from the Weasley place in Diagon Alley." She responded, "and that if you wanted to avoid being the unfortunate victim of a misguided prank you probably wanted to leave the common room until the house elves have gone through and cleaned. But If you’d rather remain, that’s your business,”

“Lizzy-”

“Don’t bother Ed, If I couldn’t handle getting yelled at a little I’d be deader than the Bloody Baron,” She didn’t move from the doorway then, even if she looked like she wished she had, “Are you… alright?”

“Yeah,” he gave a low sigh, shaking his hands out as he climbed to his feet, “I’m fine- just… rough day,”

She nodded and didn’t say anything for the moment, “I can’t say I’m the most empathetic person in the world-” she let her words hang there for a moment, “But, if needs be…”

“Thanks, Lizzy,” he said, sending her a tight smile, “I’ll be alright,”

She nodded, and Ed couldn’t help but think she seemed relieved by his refusal. Elizabeth turned away, leaving the room, her robes gliding along behind her. He wasn’t in the mood for food, but Lizzy was right to warn him off staying in the common room. Taking a moment to grab his scarf, Ed hesitated before collecting his potions essay. If he had the time, it wouldn’t hurt to look over his work again.

The February air was only marginally better than it had been over winter break, the constant chill replaced by a dryness interspersed with sharp northern gusts that left his face chapped and red. Blaise had commented the other day that Ed had the right idea wearing gloves at all times, after the dark-skinned boy's knuckles had cracked and bled on their way to Herbology. Even still, Ed couldn’t find it in himself to fully hate the cold. The sharpness and bite helped him think, the fridged air helping to put things into perspective in a way Hogwarts warm halls never could.

He settled himself in the same spot where Luna and himself had their impromptu conversation nights ago. The position giving himself a good view of the Hogwarts green and the vaulted hallway behind him was far too echoey for anyone to sneak up behind him. Despite the numerous people trying to kill him, he was significantly more worried about the sudden appearance of a misguided classmate. He wouldn’t feel the least bit guilty breaking the nose of a Death Eater- and underclassman on a dare… slightly less. He knew himself well enough to know, that he could get dangerously absorbed in his work at times.

He twirled his quill along his metal fingers as he waited for something to come to him. Even if he liked the cold to a degree, and even with Madam Pomfrey's vessels, he knew better to leave his automail joints inactive in weather like this for long.

_ Signs of Poisoning _

He scribbled out on a piece of scratch paper. Information that hadn’t technically been a part of the lesson, nor something he’d learned in Hogwarts- but when in doubt, bullshit.

  1. __Redness or swelling around the mouth__



Ed remembered the face of the private from the East. He’d been in the hospital- some, nothing injury, Mustang had made him get looked at when he’d got back from chasing down a lead that ended up leading nowhere- when he’d seen him. From General Schweizerische’s office, some old bastard that enemy forces had been trying and failing to kill longer than Ed had been alive- only this time the attempt had got someone, just not the right man.

The soldier's face was red and blotchy, the swelling creeping down his throat like a bad case of poison ivy. His breathing was labored, and Ed remembered the pinched look of the nurses face as she wet his forehead and brushed his hair away, mumbling quiet nothing's as if he could hear her. The ugly wet sound of him drawing weak breath, after breath, had lulled Ed into an uneasy sleep that night. When he’d awoke the next morning, there'd been a tube shoved down the soldier's throat, forcing air into his lungs, but eventually, even that wasn’t enough. He’d been dead by the evening when Mustang had come to pick him up.

Mustang had taken one look at his face and demanded to know what happened. When he’d told him- when he managed to spit it out, The Colonel had been furious. He'd put a hand on Ed’s back, escorted him to the car, and told him to wait. 

Ed hadn’t got it at first. That there was no way Ed should have been in the same ward- let alone the same room as a man waiting to die from poison. That the only way Ed, still young enough to get sent to pediatrics by the occasional well-meaning physician, had ended up in that room, is someone had meant him too.

Ed scrubbed a hand over his face, willing his thoughts back to the present. It seemed his walk down memory lane from earlier wasn’t quite done with him yet.

He returned to his list, scribbling down a few more points to work into a paragraph. 

  1. _Breath that smells like chemicals_
  2. _Difficulty breathing_
  3. _Drowsiness_
  4. _Confusion or other altered mental status_



He supposed he should add a few other things like smoking flesh or blackening veins to his list, they seemed like common enough side effects to the poisons they’d covered in class, but it seemed almost a shame to infect the normality of his list with magic. Ed again resorted to random tapping with his quill as he searched to the right words to convey the additional information. As much as he had hated the military typewriters for how often they jammed or refused to cooperate with his harder than average Automail strokes- writing everything by quill was an exercise in excruciating patience.

Behind him, Ed heard the sound of two sets of feet. One rushed the other stumbling drunkenly. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed that the two in question were Harry and Ron Weasley, the second boy the one who didn’t appear to be wholly in control of his own limbs.

“Alright there Harry?” he called out as he watched the black haired boy bite back a curse as he friend nearly hit the ground.”

“What?” Harry’s head jerked up as he sought out Ed’s voice. He seemed to do something of a double take seeing Ed seated in the grass. “Ed? What-? No, no- yes, we’re fine-” Ron would have gone down again if not for Harry’s quick reflexes, “Just uh, just had something he shouldn’t have?”

“That so?” Ed asked with a raised brow, “You know you’re going the wrong direction for the Hospital Wing?”

“Oh, yes, I know,” Harry said resituating his arm around Ron’s waist, “Slughorn’s- I mean,” he said, his voice strained, “We’re heading to Slughorn’s,”

“For a hangover cure?”

“Oh!” Harry shook his head, a hint of a smile coming to his lips, “No, he's not drunk,”

Ed looked him over, “You sure about that?”

“Yeah- no,” Harry said with a small embarrassed laugh, “No, someone dosed some chocolates of mine with Love Potion- Ron, well,” Harry used his free hand to gesture to his inebriated friend, “I figure Slughorn’s a bit more qualified to deal with this- Fuck, Ron- where are you going?”

Ed watched as Ron shoved Harry off and stumble unsteadily towards Ed. “Ed- Ed,” he latched on to Ed’s shoulder’s tightly, and Ed returned the movement to steady him, “Have you- have you seen Romilda?”

“Romilda?” Ed asked, sending a confused glance Harry’s way,

“Romilda Vane,” Ron said with a gasp, “She’s the love of my life, Ed!”

“You don’t even know her,” Harry grumbled as he approached the other boys, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he was prepared to fight his wayward friend into submission.

“How rude!” Ron gasped, “That happens to be the woman I love you’re talking about!”

“Yeah?” Harry said, accepting Ron back from Ed, “Give me one defining characteristic,”

Ron paused to think for a moment, “She’s the most beautiful person on the entire planet,”

“Uh hu,” Harry grumbled skeptically, “Come on, places to go,”

“Places to go? Harry,” Ron gripped his forearms tightly, “Are you taking me to Romilda?”

“Yes, Ron. To Romilda,” He replied dryly.

“Need a hand with that?” Ed asked as Harry fought to contain Ron’s newfound excitement.

Harry hesitated, “you sure?”

Ed shrugged, “Yeah,” he gave a little laugh, “And besides I’ve got some things I’ve been meaning to ask him,” Harry shot him a look of veiled interest that Ed waved off, “Just some Homework stuff, the potions essay?”

Harry scrunched up his brow, “Isn’t… that not due for like another month?” Ed let out a low sigh.

With Ron held tightly between the two of them, they proceed at a much faster rate than Harry previously had. With only a brief moment of difficulty, wherein which Ron suddenly wondered why Romilda would be in the dungeons, the overall delivery of the redhead went off without a hitch.

Slughorn pulled open his office door after the third knock and blinked at them sluggishly as if trying to figure out how they’d come to be standing there. He’d clearly been preparing for bed if the light purple dressing gown was anything to judge by. “Harry, Edward, what a pleasant surprise,” his voice carrying a faint uptick that told Ed it really wasn’t.

“Sorry to disturb you, professor-”

“Oh no, my dear boy! It’s no problem at all,” Ed watched as the mans crowd-pleasing smile slid back in place with practiced ease, “how can I be of service?”

“Uh-,” Harry reached back to shove Ron forward,”

“-Ah, Mr. Weasly, you’re here too-,”

“-Yes, see, he ate some sweets of mine, and well, it turns out there might have been some love potion involved…” Slughorn gave a deep belly laugh and clapped Harry on the shoulder, apparently delighted. Personally, Ed found love potions more than a bit creepy- and thought that they were absolutely probably banned at Hogwarts.

“Ah, young love,” the man said with a dramatic sigh,”

“Sure,” Ed said as he took a tighter hold on Ron’s arm.

“Come in! Come in!” the potions master waved them inside as he began digging wildly through the cupboards of his office, “It's around here somewhere…. I always make up a batch around Valentines day!” he paused for a moment, “I would have thought you able to whip up your own batch of this, Harry,”

Harry gave a nervous laugh, “figured I should trust a more practiced mind,”

Slughorn gave a little laugh and continued with his spiel, “Of course, a true love potion is very very difficult to make. Most just result in a very strong version of Muggle Hypnosis, resulting in infatuation at best.” He let out a quiet exclamation as he removed a vaguely green bottle from the cupboard. “Here we are… Yes, love potions, even ones with quite the kick- like the one your friends stumbled into here, rarely result in anything… substantial,”

Ed’s face scrunched up unpleasantly as he started Ron toward the man so he could receive the antidote, “Drink up,” Ed watched as Ron gulped down the potion, giddy look spread wide across his pale face. For a few moments nothing happened, then, like Ed was watching his mood physically be brushed away, a frown spread over the other boy's slack expression.

“What- bloody hell,” Ron groaned, “my head…”

“Love potion,” Harry said, from his other side. There was a grin on his face, but his hands were knotted together in a way that betrayed untold anxiety.

“I feel like shit,” Ron moaned, one hand reaching up to press against his forehead,

“A pick me up is in order I think!” Slughorn said jovially. “Butterbeer, of course, a nice wine I was gifted at Christmas- oh!” Slughorn hoisted a bottle aloft, “A Mead!” he paused, “I feel I had other intentions for this at one point- but! That is to our gain tonight!” The potions master hurried over and shoved a glass into Ed’s and the other boy’s hands quickly.

Ed leaned in to take a slight whiff of the drink and was greeted with the familiar scent that had occupied much of Ed’s summer. Olivia’s tastes had run more along the line of Scotch- but Ashley, Ash had been a connoisseur of Mead. With a slight twitch of his lips, Ed brought the glass up.

The instant the liquid hit, he knew something was wrong. Ed felt his flesh leg give out beneath him- his automail locking up awkwardly, his body hitting the ground at an angle. His muscles seized involuntarily along his right side, his left tingled faintly- just on the edge of numbness.

Something was- his eyes- the next thing he knew there were two blurs in front of his face, on dark, the other red. He could feel them making noise, saying something too him- it felt like he was underwater and with each passing second he grew deeper and deeper.

A tight pain gripped his jaw but Ed couldn’t so much as move, much less fight it off. His teeth were locked painfully tight, his head felt as if there was a pressure building exponentially just behind his ears. The pain increased and his jaw unlocked before Ed could even attempt to suck in a breath or expel the foam that seemed to fill his mouth and throat, he felt something small and hard being shoved inside.

“-d! Ed!-”

“Fucking hell, oh bloody fucking hell-”

“I- I...don’t-”

Ed couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment where it stopped, his head too cottony- his lungs burning as if they were on fire. His body felt lax and heavy. Leaving him unable to do so much as lift a finger. He was peripherally aware of noise somewhere outside of all the dark heaviness- a noise that seemed to build and build until he felt as if he’d been struck by a brick.

With all the strength he could muster, Ed weakly flicked open his eyes. His moment of consciousness lasted no longer than a breath. A flash of green, relief-

Darkness.

  
  



	28. Taipan

“How’d- How’d you even manage it?” Draco’s voice caught, his hands twisting in his robes, knuckles turning white, “How the fuck- you shouldn’t have-” he let out a little choked off sound and shoved his hand over his mouth to silence it. It was late, visiting hours had been over nearly an hour ago- but Lizzy had promised to get him inside, and he knew better than to turn her offer down.

They’d been coming back from dinner when one of her little spy’s had come tearing through the hallway. Her pale skin flush with exertion, her twin braids bobbing as she gasped for breath. The little girl had glanced between all of them before whispering her message in Elizabeth’s ear, Draco knew it was bad instantly. Lizzy had sent the girl away with a flick of her wrist and latched onto his robes with an iron grip. Pansy had let out an exclamation behind them, but Lizzy paid the group no heed.

She’d pulled him around the corner and into the nearest unlocked room and let go of him with a harsh shove. “Elric’s been poisoned,”

“What?” he remembered stuttering out- completely confused, it not even occurring to him that he himself could have been the culprit.

“Drank some poisoned mead from Slughorn it seems,” her words were precise, her eyes judging- and it was that, her suspicion of him that finally cued him in.

“No,”

“Draco-”

“No!” he shouted, taking a step forward angrily, “How could you even say that? I would never-!”

“Never procure a poisoned mead and badly spell someone to do your dirty work for you? I never said you would,”

Draco narrowed his eyes and jabbed a finger her direction, “Harris, what exactly are you implying…”

“Nothing, Malfoy,” she replied coldly, “I consider it common knowledge that the application of a middle man is just one more way everything can go horribly wrong. I would never think so lowly of one of my dear friends.”

Draco felt his resolve waver in spite of himself, a sick heavy thing mounting in his insides. “I- I would never- not Ed, I didn’t-”

“I know,” she replied quietly, “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you’d had,”

He let out a bitter laugh, “And what exactly is ‘this conversation’? Are you going to rat me out? Sentence us both to death? Because you know that's what happens, what will happen if this gets out,”

“No,” she said primly, “I think you’ll find my morals directly relate to how much an action would endanger my own life,”

“So what then? If you’re not going to turn me in, what is this?”

“One of your best friends is laid up in the hospital wing in who knows what condition, Draco,” She pursed her lips tightly, her eyes dark despite the leeway of her next words, “I’m going to help you see him,”

“You’re what?” Draco couldn’t help but respond weakly, “why would you do that?”

She let out a low sigh, “Because, I want to give you a chance to make things right before they get too far along.”

He narrowed his eyes, “This won't… stop me, you know. This can’t- I can’t stop now,”

“I know,” She said, something hidden buried deep in her tone of voice, “But I think you’re going to need him,”

Lizzy had slipped him inside. Draco had no idea how she’d managed to time it so that there was no one to see. But however it was done, she’d managed it- and now he was alone with Ed. He'd supposed- he'd assumed, that by the way, Lizzy had been talking, that Ed was awake. This- seeing him so still and pale, a direct consequence of his actions- was so much worse. He wondered if she’d done that on purpose. It seemed like something she would do.

Ed’s blonde hair had been loosed from its braid, blankets tucked high up under his chin. One of his arms, the one nearest to him, had lay half in the open when he’d arrived. Draco had been unable to shove down the compulsion to cover it, and had almost fallen out of his seat when their brief second of contact left him reeling. He’d been so cold.

Draco still wasn’t even sure how it had happened- Lizzy had been sparse on details- he knew little more than that Ed had somehow managed to get ahold and drink that bottle of poisoned mead. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, hating the gritty greasy feeling that met the action. Early mornings and late nights, did not, to hygiene, lend. Frankly, he’d all but forgotten about the bottle. It had been ages ago, and when nothing had come of it, he’d written off the weak plan completely. After the incident with Garrow, when he’d been unable to get to the vanishing cabinet for ages he’d been struck with a wave of overwhelming panic. He’d stolen a bottle of Mead from Nott and mixed a poison so far back in their textbook that they’d never be expected to actually know how to make it.

Myrtle had kept watch for him, the ghost acting as his accomplice without even knowing what he was doing. Her constant chatter had distracted him from the task at hand in the best way, keeping him from becoming too self-aware of what he was actually doing. With the poisons base pure Inland Taipan venom, it was quick, deadly, and most importantly, thanks to the aforementioned speed, almost incurable.

_Fuck._

Draco clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice weak and thready, “fuck, Ed, I’m so sorry,” he left out a shaking laugh and swiped a hand across his eyes violently, “I just keep seeming to hurt you don’t I?” Draco shook his head disgusted, “You don’t remember, but I obliviated you, you were just trying to help,” he choked a little as another wave of cruel irony reeled its head. “You know, it’s funny,” Draco let out a laugh, “The only way- the only way I figure, all of this,” he gestured to Ed’s prone form, “happened, was that my Imperius Curse gave out- and you knew that would happen! Back at the pub you took over for me because I couldn’t get it right…” he trailed off, not able to get his next words out at first, “If I hadn’t- If I’d let you help- you would have done the spell on the Mead- the spell would have actually fucking worked and the only one who would have ended up poisoned was the one who was supposed to have,”

Silence was all that answered him, Ed's still form gave not the smallest twitch.

A low tolling rang out through the infirmary causing Draco to tense. With one last glance at Ed, he pushed aside the curtains that surrounded his bed and slipped through the infirmary as quietly as he could. The main doors were locked when he got there, but it was nothing he couldn’t take care of. Their seal was more symbolic than an actual barrier. Draco held his breath as he slid into the low lit corridor, the flames that lit it in the evenings flickered strangely along the stone walls.

“Mr. Malfoy what a pleasant surprise,” Draco froze, his every hair standing on edge. Hands folded light, pale over newly blackened, stood Albus Dumbledore.

“Professor,” he said, quietly fighting to keep his gaze even.

“And how has your year been, young man?”

Draco blinked taken aback, confused, and on edge, “What?”

“Your year, Mr. Malfoy,” The man towered over him, his eyes gazing down from above his half-moon spectacles.

“Fine, I suppose. Sir,” he added haltingly. He didn’t know what was happening, he didn’t know how to proceed.

“I’m glad to hear that,” the headmaster's voice was soft, a tone Draco had never once heard directed at him. It made his skin crawl with discomfort. Did he know? Did he know that it had all been him?

“I always find evening walks to be deeply relaxing, don’t you?”

Draco couldn’t help the little shake his head gave, an involuntary reaction to the absurd nature of his situation, “I don’t- I’ve never considered it personally, Sir,”

“Ah,” he exclaimed, “A shame. I assumed that must be the activity you were partaking in this close to bed,”

His brow scrunched up in confusion. It was far after bed, “Sir-”

“I think you must be getting back soon,” Dumbledore continued as if he hadn’t heard, “Don’t you think?” he said retrieving a dented pocket watch from somewhere inside his robes. The watch face swung around slowly to face him. At first, Draco was confused, but then his eyes caught something stranger. The second hand seemed to flicker backward and forward as if caught forever in a tiny loop of time, the hour and minute hands frozen permanently at the 8:30 position.

“Sir-”

“Lights out any minute now, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you be getting back,”

Draco’s feet began moving backward almost without his say, putting space between himself and the old wizard.

“And Mr. Malfoy-” the professor stopped as if considering something, “as things stand in the outside world, remember, I value the lives of all my students,”

Draco couldn’t help it as he broke into a full out run the second he disappeared around the nearest corner.

\---

“Welcome back to the land of the living Mr. Elric,” Ed blinked back a hiss of pain as bright light met his eyes.

“Wha-” Ed’s throat burned as his weak attempt at speaking devolved into a coughing fit.

“Easy there,” Madam Pomfrey said quietly, guiding him to a straw to drink from, “Just take a second,” She reached down a grasped one of Ed’s hands and fitted it along the outside of the cool glass so she could continue to open the windows in the infirmary, “Luckily we’ve had a quiet night, only you in here this morning. So I figure we can let you see the sun for a bit without having to worry about anyone else intruding and catching sight of something you don't want them to.” she said, sending a significant look at his automail, just peaking out from under the covers.

Ed settled the glass on the small bedside table beside him and tried again, “What happened?”

“Poison,” she answered briskly, a faint breeze beginning to fill the room, “a nasty job of it too, you have Mr. Potter to thank for your continued being here,”

“Harry?”

She hummed, “A Bezoar isn’t what I’d call the most flashy cure in the world, but they are damn effective. When you began to convulse, Mr. Potter had the presence of mind to administer one before it was too late,” She came to a stop in front of his bed and looked at him gently, “I’m very glad you’re alright, Mr. Elric,”

“Thank you,” he said softly, “but,” he hesitated, “I still don’t understand, how did I end up poisoned?”

Her expression darkened, “The mead that you intended to drink alongside Professor Slughorn, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley, that’s where the poison was.”

“But why?”

Her expression softened again, “Don’t worry Edward, Dumbledore doesn’t think it was meant for you- for any of you actually. It appears, well it appears your poisoning was accidental,”

“If it wasn’t for me, then who?”

Her lips grew tight, “I’m afraid I don’t know,” Ed nodded, she was lying.

“And Harry, and Ron? They’re alright? Professor Slughorn too?”

“Yes, yes,” she said waving her hands excessively as if making up for her previous frozenness, “all of them, quite alright. None of them had a chance to drink before you went down,”

“That's good,” he said, relaxing into bed, a bone-deep weariness overtaking him, “Do you mind if I stay in here a little longer?” he asked, “I’m not sure I could make it through History of Magic at the moment,”

She laughed, “no, no, Mr. Elric- I think you misunderstand, a poisoning of your severity, you have a minimum of two weeks bedrest,”

“What!” Ed exclaimed jackknifing upright, “That can’t-”

“It can, and it is, Mr. Elric.” she fixed him with a stern gaze, “You’re lucky we didn’t have to send you to St. Mungos. Being down two limbs, the poison affected you much more strongly, than it generally would a person of your size, spread much more quickly.” she added quietly, “at risk of sounding overdramatic, you really should be very happy to be alive,”

Her words were sobering, and once again Ed felt himself sinking back into his pillow, the fight gone out of him.

“If you’re worried about classes,” she said softly, “I wouldn’t be, Professor Dumbledore tells me that he’s sure that one of your friends would be more than willing to come by and bring you any work you’ve missed. He seemed to think Mr. Malfoy was particularly unsettled by your state,”

“Malfoy?”

“I was led to believe he attempted to see you last night. Though, as I didn’t see him, he must have just missed visiting hours,”

“Oh,”

“Would you like me to wake you up if anyone comes to see you? Or would you prefer to sleep?”

“If you’d wake me?”

“Of course, Edward,” Ed felt his eyelids grow heavier, and through his lashes, he could just make out the fond way she was looking at him, “Goodnight, Mr. Elric,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter one this week, I'm midway through a paper on Existentialism, and boy was it weird to be switching between those two pieces of writing.


	29. Crane's-bill

Ed fucking ached. He hadn’t noticed it as much when he’d first woken up, too sleep idled to notice the dull throbbing that covered his entire body. Madam Pomfrey had been forced to close his curtains about an hour ago to hide his automail. Ed didn’t see much point in it honestly, covered with a veritable mountain of blankets as he was. Though, for as many as there were, they didn’t seem to be doing much against the bone-deep chill the poison had left in its wake. His throat was almost painfully dry but the idea of extending his arm out to take the glass of water seated on his bedside table was almost worse.

He could hear people moving about in the rest of the room, students hoping to be diagnosed with something so they could skip out of class, and victims of what seemed to be a rather elaborate crash in flying class. Someone was humming a song by the Weird Sisters from what Ed judged to be the next bed over, the sound cutting out intermittently as the notes became too high or low to be hummed properly.

That was actually a decent analogy to how his head felt, pulsing painfully inside his skull- growing fuzzy at odd moments until he couldn’t focus on anything and then clearing suddenly, leaving every little thing to overload his senses. He wanted nothing more than to force a pillow over his head in a desperate attempt to muffle the world- only the overwhelming heaviness of the rest of his being prevented him.

Madam Pomfrey had come to check on him earlier, brushing his hair away sympathetically. “I’m sorry Mr. Elric, there really isn’t much that I can do- your body can’t handle any more potions at the moment than you’ve currently taken. We don’t need to end up poisoning you again through improper medical care,”

She had a point, even if he hated it.

At some point he’d drifted off, only to awaken a short while later feeling no better rested. However, someone must have come and gone while he slept, because settled at his bedside was a large bouquet of flowers. Pale pink with yellow spotted centers, dark purple with even darker veins, and smaller red flowers with perfectly proportioned petals. There wasn’t a card that Ed could see, and as he raised his head to inspect, he was forced down with an overwhelming wave of nausea. He spent about the next hour fighting to keep his… whatever the last meal he’d had, down, as his body did it’s best to make him wish the poison had done its job better.

“Mr. Elric?” Ed rolled his head to the side, Madam Pomfrey stood silhouetted in the fading light. He wasn’t sure when it had gotten so late. “You have a friend to see you are feeling up to it?”

Ed nodded, he wasn’t really up for anything, but he needed a distraction desperately about now. The curtains moved aside as the healer allowed his guest into his little abode. “Hey,” she said quietly, a small smile on her face as her hands fidgeted.

“Hey, Pans,” he replied trying not to react to the pity in her eyes as his sore throat butchered his words. “How are things?”

“Oh… things are- things are good,”

“Glad to hear it,” he waited expectantly for her to continue, his gaze eventually shocking her out of her head.

“I came to see-” she cut herself and shook her head, “No, that’s-” she shook her head again and raised her gaze to his, Ed was shocked to see tears building, “I thought you were going to die,” she breathed out painfully.

Ed’s brow knotted, “Pans, I’m fine-” he grabbed ahold of one of her hands and squeezed it, “I’m fine, really. Why would you think that?”

She gave a wet laugh, stepping back but not pulling her hand away, “Ron- Weasley, he was there- and his girlfriend, Lavender Brown, she was just so excited by the story- she kept making him tell it over and over and over again,” she sniffled, “You would have thought you were already dead they way he said things,” her tone was hushed and hurt, “he just kept saying that you wouldn’t stop convulsing- And Draco, he told me you were fine, but I- I couldn’t-”

Ed gripped Pansey’s hand tighter as he felt her shake, “Pans, Pans, it's okay- it’s okay, I’m fine, everything is alright,” He tried to send her a self-assured smile, and it must have worked, because she returned it shakily. Ed forced himself to slide over, giving her room to sit on the edge of his bed. “I feel like shit, but the universe is gonna have to try a lot harder than that if they want me gone,”

She laughed. “I’m sorry, Ed. Really, about all of this- you’re laid up in the hospital wing because you got poisoned, and I’m the one crying-”

“Really, Pans, It’s alright,”

“It’s just- I couldn’t help thinking. When I heard, when I heard what happened, all I could think about was the last time we talked-”

“Pans-”

“No. I was awful. You were just trying to understand and I was awful-”

“You were upset,” he said squeezing her hand, “I wasn’t offended, not really,”

She nodded but Ed couldn’t tell if his words had actually assured her, “Thanks for coming to visit,” He tried instead, looking for a safer subject, “You’re the first- I mean, I heard Draco tried, and I suppose there was whoever left those flowers-”

“Oh!” she said waving her hand, “those are from Lizzy, I’m sure,”

“How can you tell?”

“Monkshood,” She said pointing a thin finger at the dark purple flowers in the bouquet, “Its poison.” Ed’s eyes widened and Pansy waved her hands frantically, “no, no, no! I didn’t mean- I mean, the flower, it's poisonous- but it's just, that's absolutely her sense of humor. And well…”

“What?”

“It’s uh, also called ‘Wolf’s Bane’,” She gave an apologetic shrug, “I imagine she’d find that terribly hilarious,” Pansy’s face seemed to be warring between disapproval and repressed humor.

“I see,” Ed said dryly, “With friends like these, who needs enemies?”

Pansy laughed, some of the tension going out of her, “It really is a rubbish arrangement too,”

“What do you mean? I didn’t think the colors were all that bad,”

Pansy positively glowered, “That’s because you have no sense of style Edward,”

“Hey-!”

“But in any case,” she continued, ignoring his outrage, “It’s not the colors I was talking about,”

“No?”

“No,” she confirmed with a little shake of her head, “It’s the meaning of it all,” she said, waving dismissively at the flowers, who, in Ed’s humble opinion, had not done nearly enough to deserve the tongue lashing they were getting.

“What did the red scale ever do to you?”

She gave a little tisk, sounding much more like herself than she had earlier, “I already said, It’s not the colors- though, yes, not a winning combination- It’s the meaning of the flowers,”

“Okay?”

“Christ, Elric, Have you never heard of the language of the flowers?”

Oh, no, actually he had. It was one of Mustangs things- when he needed to pass a message along to one of his girls without being overheard. He’d give her flowers after their “date”, or wear one in his lapel. So yes, he was aware of it… bothered to learn, not so much.

“I’m going to take that as a no…” Pansy said, and Ed realized he’d blanked out for too long.

“Wait, no- I have,”

“You have?”

“Well, heard of it- have any understanding of it… not so much,”

She blew out a low breath, “Well,” she grumbled, “That’s better than Blaise at least,”

“Not Draco?” Ed smirked.

“Please,” she scoffed, “I think Narcissa, drilled that into his head before he could even talk,”

Ed had a laugh of the mental image of Narcissa sitting across the dining room table from a little white-haired toddler, a spread of flowers between the two of them. “Alright then, what do the plants say?”

“Well, it starts off decently-” she pointed to the pink and yellow flowers, “Alstroemeria is for friendship,”

“That’s not too bad,”

“But then we get to the Aconite- Monkshood to you- and it’s meaning tends to run from, ‘be cautious’ to straight up ‘hatred’,”

“Ah, less pleasant,”

“Yes, yes it is,”

“And the last one?”

“Geraniums, that would be stupidity,”

“She’s calling me an idiot?”

“Well,” she said in deadpan, “the flowers are at the very least,”

“What does someone have to do to get a little sympathy around here? I just got fucking poisoned and my friends still won’t stop insulting me!”

Ed was pleased to see a full blow smile across Pansy’s face when he looked back. The world was going to shit, he didn’t need to be one more stressor for the people he cared about.

“Do you know what happened?” she said, the mood sobering some, “We knew almost right away when it occurred, one of Lizzy’s ran to tell us- but even she didn’t seem to know all the details,”

“Sorry Pans, I don’t,” He frowned, “I don’t think it was about me, so don’t worry about that,”

She nodded, “I don’t like them still being out there, the person who did this,” she worried her lower lip between her teeth, “they never caught the last one either,”

“Last one?”

“That Gryffindor, the one who got cursed.” Ed cringed internally, “I didn’t-”

“What?” he said, taking in the guilty look that had spread across her face

“I didn’t think any of us would be hurt,” Her words were hushed, secret like, “I didn’t-”

Ed almost interrupted, told her that ‘he knew’, that ‘he understood why’- because he did. If spending over half a year with these kids had taught him anything, it was that tradition was a heavy chain, and a hard one to break. But, it wasn’t something he could just ease away for his friends comfort either. They all had a responsibility to step away from what they’d been taught and form their own opinions.

Pansy squirmed, “I didn’t want them to- to be Death-” she lowered her voice as if suddenly remembering they were still at school, “-to be those people, but I figured… if they were, at least they would leave us alone. That at least we’d be safe.”

“Pansy, that girl- The Gryffindor- she had a sister-”

“-I know that!” Pansy’s hands clenched at her sides, “I know that” she said again softly, “I just… it didn’t seem real, you know? Like the problem of a different world,” she sighed, “But then when you-” she looked at him with weighted eyes, “I started to think about Lizzy,”

“Lizzy?”

“Yeah- her, her dad-”

“Right, he’s a Muggle,”

“Yeah, but I was thinking- there really isn’t a place for her in _his_ world either, is there? And-” there were tears beginning to build in her eyes again, “I couldn’t help but think, that if she died- because you and I both know, that as good as she is at it, she wouldn’t be able to bite back everything if _he_ won-” Pansy’s voice broke, and Ed’s hand found hers again, taking pity on her shivering form, “Ed,” she said finally.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to live in that world,”

\---

“Good evening Mr. Elric,”

“Evening sir,” Ed said, his head turned the side, eyes fixed on his flowers- not the headmaster who’d come to visit.

It was well into the evening now, he was sure visiting hours had come and gone- not that he’d seen anyone after Pansy had left. Madam Pomfrey had come through and closed all the windows just moments ago, not even sparing Dumbledore a glance, almost like she hadn’t even seen him. Hell, maybe she hadn’t. Dumbledore gave off so much power on an average day, it would be hard to tell if he’d done something to his person.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Ed had no patience for Dumbledore’s concern real or otherwise. Ed doubted he would ever be able to fully trust anything the man gave him, he didn’t have it in him to be cheated by someone twice.

Dumbledore was quiet, out of the corner of his eye, Ed could make out the tight expression that twisted up the old man's face. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied softly, and Ed felt himself tense up under the man's words. Bracing himself against the urge to cling to kindness, an involuntary reaction that remained with him against Ed’s best efforts, ever since Hoenheim…

“Can I help you with something?” Ed said, his voice made harsher with the reminder of the old bastard.

“Your poisoning,” Dumbledore said after a moment, “It was-”

“-Draco, I know,” Ed’s eyes watched the way the moonlight glowed off the petals of his bouquet where it still sat unassumingly.

“I see,” Ed didn’t know if Dumbledore had gleaned meaning from the flowers too, or if his words were a more general observation. “I feel I should assure you, you were not the attacks target-”

“-gathered that thanks,” Ed grumbled half into his pillow. He knew he was acting childish, and the thought of that did bring some redness to his cheeks, but he was sick and in pain and could not bring himself to make this any easier for the other man.

Dumbledore let out a low sigh, “Edward…”

“What?” Ed snapped tension coursing in his bones.

“Thank you,”

It took a moment for the old man's words to fully register, “For what?” he said, not near as hostile as he’d been just moments before but still wary.

“When one walks as dark a path as young Mr. Malfoy has been lead down, it's painfully difficult to stop a person from progressing further into the black,”

“To be honest, Sir, I don’t think I’ve been nearly as successful as you’re making me out to have been,”

“I assure you, Edward,” he said softly, “you have been,”

Ed just fixed his eyes firmly on the flowers. “Sure,”

There was a harsh exhale from behind him, and Ed had to stop himself from tensing. “When I was young…” Dumbledore began, “There is a period of my life of which I am not proud of. A time in my life in which I made decisions- where the result of my decision- well, let us say, I’ll never have the opportunity to take them back,”

“I think we all have those, sir,” Ed said quietly, his mind overlaying the images of his own basement and the one of the Tucker home.

“Yes, I suppose, some of us more than others,” Dumbledore paused, “My point being, Edward, I was... reintroduced into reality with a harshness I would wish on no one- I would give anything to have had a friend like you to steer me back the right way,”

Ed didn’t respond, he didn’t know how too. Eventually, Dumbledore must have realized that their conversation was over because at some point between one breath and the next, the man’s presence vanished, and Ed was left alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slower chapter this week, but things should start to pick up presently


	30. The Prince

Ed supposed he should have been grateful he was already in the hospital wing when the month's wave of illness struck. He should have been grateful that there was no one around to see. Unfortunately, that gratefulness all but vanished the second Madam Pomfrey took note of his state. The matron's shrewd eyes were impossible to escape, scrutinizing his every shiver and glassy-eyed stare.

“This isn’t the poison,” she told him matter-of-factly as he neared the end of the second day. She’d deemed him too ill for visitors and refused to let anyone near. Ed suspected she was passive-aggressively punishing him because she believed he knew something and wasn’t speaking up.

“No?” he croaked, not willing to give up just yet.

“No. In fact, I’d wager this is completely unrelated,”

“Compromised immune system?”

“A good try Mr. Elric, but no,” she raised a brow at him pointedly, “One of the first potions I gave you before you even regained consciousness took care of that. Its standard practice, otherwise having everyone sick in a room with each others compromised immune systems would never work as a hospital,”

“Ah,” Ed paused, “And you’re sure it’s not the poison?”

“Very,” Ed cursed under his breath, “Mind your language, Mr. Elric,” she said walking away, “do call for me if you mysteriously remember a piece of medical history you forgot to inform me of,” Ed knocked his head backwards dually, the impact against his pillow not nearly as satisfying as he wanted.

Before Madam Pomfrey retired to wherever it was she went at days end, she returned to his bedside to give him a potion for the pain- enough of the previous batch of antitoxin having worked its way through his system. “It’s not a sedative,” she told him, “But it should mellow things out enough for you to get some rest,”  
Ed had always had weird dreams on painkillers, magical painkillers it seemed were not an exception.

That night was full of flashes of familiar green fields and carefully regulated government buildings that bled into crimson eyes. Unlike past bouts of illness, he never seemed to ground himself anywhere, floating in and out of aspects of his life seemingly at random. Chaotic flashes one second, and the next standing frozen behind Pinako as she worked, not a sound uttered between the two of them.

He drifted in an out of consciousness, never fully going under, never fully waking up. His throat burned, and every swallow made him feel as if he’d found his way to Ishval all while his fingers sang with northern cold.

“You know I’d almost peg you for a werewolf myself moaning as you are,”

His brothers silver armor settled on a train heading east, melted into a white blonde head hovering to his left. No, not hovering, settled on a body clothed in deep black robes.

“Draco?” his voice sounded odd to his own ears, like rusty hinges left to swing in the breeze. There was something moving out of the corner of his eyes, he was almost positive it wasn’t actually there.

“Shit,” he heard faintly, though it could have been his imagination.

“Whatcha doing here?” he sounded drunk even to his own ears.

“I didn’t realize you were awake,”

“It’s the middle of the night, you should be asleep too,”

Draco gave a weak laugh, “I think we can both agree that we're both equally bad at getting a solid eight hours,”

“‘Suppose that’s true,” he murmured, unable to drag up the energy to argue.

“How are you?” the other boy's words were hesitant, pitched so low Ed almost hadn’t heard them.

“Oh,” he said, a tired grin spreading across his face as he fought to keep his eyes cracked, “‘m swell. Fine and dandy,” Ed’s misfiring brain latched on to the end of that thought oddly, rolling the word around in his mouth until it became little more than nonsense.

“No, you’re not,” Draco replied sounding disturbingly put off, “you could have died,”

“Wouldn’t be the…” he trailed off for a moment, his train of thought lost in a sudden flash of Briggs, “the first time,

“That doesn’t really make it better,” Draco’s leg was bouncing up and down and Ed had to fight some strange inexplicable compulsion to reach out and hold it still.

“You call me my name,”

“What?” he responded in confusion, “the fuck else would I call you?”

“Elric- It’s always Elric with you,” Ed waved his hand “good things never happen with people who call me Elric,”

“Merlin, you’re really not here right now are you?”

“No shit Draco, it's the middle of the fucking night. I can’t be expected to be cognizant all the time,” Ed let out a quiet moan as the briefly parted mental fog swept over him again, clouding his thoughts and trying to pull him under.

Malfoy let out a low sigh, “I’ll let you sleep now, I- just had to see. Pans came to see you, but then you were too sick… I thought maybe the poison-”

“Nah, not the poison,”

“That’s what I figured. This- this, sickness- It’s just a you thing isn’t it? You weren’t like this, but you were like this, before,”

“Seems that way,”

As Draco moved to step away Ed’s hand shot out and closed around the other boy's wrist, “Ed?”

He frowned, there was something- something he’d thought was important, something he wanted Draco to know. “I won’t tell,”

“Appreciate that,” Draco muttered trying to detangle himself from Ed’s grasp, “Don’t feel like Madam Pomfrey realizing I broke her sacred visitation rules,”

Ed shook his head, “I know you didn’t mean it,”

“What are you talk-” Draco cut himself off and jerked back suddenly, a sharp almost frantic edge overtaking his voice, “What? What did you say?”

Ed frowned, his head was having a difficult time focusing on anything at the moment, “I’m not a werewolf,”

“No, no, I fucking know that- what were you talking about just then?”

“You said you could mistake me for a werewolf- but ‘m not,” That wasn’t right, wasn’t what they were meant to be talking about, but he couldn’t get his brain to take a step back, to pause.

“Fucking hell- Ed,” Draco put a hand on either side of his head, holding on tightly. Ed gave a little hiss and tried to bat him away, the additional pressure feeling like an anvil crushing down on his skull, “Ed- Elric, listen to me, this is important, what didn’t I mean?”

“You didn’t mean it,” Ed nodded in agreement, “that’s what the flowers said too,” Ed tried to pull away again, he was having a hard time staying anchored in the here and now, and the general uncomfortableness of reality didn’t make him want to.

“Flowers?” Draco released him suddenly, eyes wanding to the vase, “Oh fucking hell Lizzy, I’m gonna fucking kill her!”

“Don’t!” Ed gasped out, ugly worry rearing its head. The word hung in the air, forced from his lips by some half-formed thought that had already disappeared.

Draco was looking at him, and for a moment Ed really got to take him all in. His hair was mussed and lank like it hadn’t been washed in several days, and while he stood still in his school robes, he was missing his Slytherin green tie. “I-” he looked horrified, “I didn’t mean that- I wouldn’t,”

“I know,”

“I wouldn’t!”

“I know,”

There was movement at Draco’s side. The other boy was clutching at his wand, and Ed felt a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

“Ed-”

“Don’t,” Draco froze, “Don’t do it,” Ed was half off his head and he knew it. Come morning he had no idea how much of this he would actually remember, and how much would be lost to the fog of illness but he knew he would need whatever he could get. He couldn't let this happen again. “Please Draco,”

All the fight seemed to go out of him, “How can I not Ed? How can I fucking not?”

“I already promised, didn’t I? I already said I wouldn’t say anything,”

“It's not-”

“It's exactly that simple,” Ed said quietly, the blanket over the top of him had slipped down, and Ed was horribly conscious that the only thing standing between Draco and his automail was the thin sleeve of a hospital gown. “You just have to trust me Draco- that’s all it takes,”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into asking that, you don’t what it could cost you,”

“It doesn’t matter,”

“Of course it does!”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re my friend Draco, and this is what that means,”

Draco’s eyes widened, the two of them held there frozen, waiting for someone to make the first move. Malfoy gave a stuttering breath and turned on his heel suddenly, leaving Ed to listen to the dull clicking of his heels on pale tile as he walked away.

\---

Somehow it hadn’t occurred to Harry that when he opened his eyes it would Be Edward Elric's bored stare that greeted him. Of course having his skull nearly crushed in hadn’t given him a whole lot of time to think between, ‘Oh God,’,‘Fuck me’, and blackness.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” Edward drawled, looking significantly more lively than he had the last time Harry had seen him convulsing on the floor of Slughorn's office.

Slughorn had come to his senses about the time Ed had fallen still, conjuring up a floating stretched and telling both boys to wait where they were until he came back. It had been nearly half an hour before the staff seemed to remember about them, and during that time not once had Ron stopped shaking.

"We could have died Harry! we could have bloody died!" Ron had moaned, his hands pale and clammy against the surface of Slughorn's couch. "Do you think he's dead?"

"What?"

"Elric, do you think he's dead?

"No," Harry had answered, even though he wasn't sure himself til McGonagall had collected them later.

"He just... He was so still," Ron had breathed out, even paler than usual.

He certainly wasn't that way now. The blonde was moving constantly, small bits at a time. Finger tapping, and foot sliding side to side under the covers, Harry recognized the signs of stir-craziness from his own extended stays in the hospital wing. “Ed,” he nodded than immediately regretted that action as his head remind him why exactly he was There.

“You see,” Ed spoke, “This is exactly why I choose to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. The second you try to fly a broomstick, you’re asking for trouble,”

“Hey, Ed? shut up,”

“I’m speaking truth Potter,”

“And you’re what? A drinking PSA?”

“Hey, if the universe wanted to get me for drinking, I spent practically the entirety of last summer in a pub,” Harry shot Ed a look, “Oh relax, the pub’s practically my neighbor- besides Olivia was a Gryffindor, so you’ve got to be bound by oath or something to like her.”

“Oh my God,”

“What?”

“Do you have, like, actual friends?”

“Oh fuck off Potter,”

“I’m serious!”

“The sorting hat really should have put you in Ravenclaw with quick thinking like that you twat,”

“Is it weird being around people who actually see the sunlight on occasion?” Harry shot back, the corner of his mouth pulling upward.

“They’re not Vampires,” came Ed's dry retort

“Are you sure?” Harry needled, “I can’t help but notice you’ve gotten paler since joining their ranks. Did they bite you, Elric?”

Ed scowled, “Hey, I can’t help the natural difference between living in the German countryside and sleeping in an actual dungeon. And seriously, keep your mouth shut. You saw how the werewolf rumor panned out,”

“How much longer are you in here for?” Harry asked, taking in Ed’s waxy appearance. Frankly, he was surprised Ed was still on bed rest, Madam Pomfrey's infirmary was like an assembly line. People rarely had a need to stay more than a few days.

“Don’t know for sure, probably a couple more nights.” Ed cracked his neck, “If it were up to me I’d have been out ages ago, not being allowed to move around is driving me up the wall.”

“I mean the break has to be nice,”

Ed shout him an incredulous look, “I’ve got things I’d rather be working on,”

“You and Hermione, neither one of you can handle going without homework for long, can you?”

Ed gave a laugh bordering on bitter, “Yeah, don’t think she’s my biggest fan in the world,”

“Why?”

Ed resituated himself in bed again, “There’s no way you haven't seen it before, you lot are all around each other 24/7,”

“Sure, I’ve noticed. She just never mentioned why,”

Ed let out a low sigh, his golden eyes falling shut for a moment, “It was before you came around, back in Grimmauld Place.”

“That’s right,” Harry said quietly, “I forget you were around before all of us,”

“Yeah… well, I wasn’t-” He paused for a moment and restarted, “Sirius and I, we had this sort of routine,” Harry felt his heart seize at the mention of his Godfather, “In the evenings, pretty much every night, I’d go troll the Black Family library. It was very rarely pleasant stuff up there, but It was more than I could get to otherwise- I remember I was reading this one potions book, It was a gift of some sort I think… from, um, what did he call himself again?" Ed chewed on his lip absently, "The Half-Blood Prince I think it was?”

Harry froze, his eyes widening, “what,” but his voice was just barely above a whisper.

“In any case, one night, Hermione surprised me-”

“What was that you just said,” Harry spit out as he sat up straight in his bed.

“Hermione surprised me?”

“No, no! The other thing! About the Prince,”

“Oh,” Ed shot him a confused glance, the other boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously, “It was a potions book, had little instructions in it. For... somebody called R.A.B I think? The B stands for Black I imagine- I think the dedication said it was a Christmas gift?- Is this important?”

“I don’t-”

“Harry?”

“It’s nothing,”

“You’re joking!” Ed sounded irritated, “Come on then, equivalent exchange. I gave you something, now you have to return the favor,”

“It’s something- uh, I have this second-hand textbook, and the previous owner called himself The Half-blood Prince. I just- I never thought I would hear it in another context is all,”

Ed narrowed his eyes again, Harry didn’t think he believed him. “If you say so,” he said slowly.

“It’s nothing Ed,” Harry said slumping back down into the bed. “I’m uh, I think I'm gonna go back to sleep now, my head is killing me,”

“Right then,”

“Night Ed,” he pulled his blankets up high and rolled over onto his side.

“Night Potter,”

Harry could feel the other boy scrutinizing him for a few moments longer, the weight of the other boys gaze crawling over him like it would pick him apart. The Half-Blood Prince… and R.A.B, who was that? Ed had never seen those initials before- but if it really was a Black ancestor, what was the tie to his textbooks mysterious previous owner? Behind his eyelids, mysteries flashed through Harry’s brain. Who was the Half-Blood Prince?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling where you've been writing for a while and you're just like, "Wow that's got to be at least 2,000 words," and then you look at word count and it's like... 5
> 
> Also for context, McLaggen nails Harry with a bludger and cracks his skull at this point in the book and that's why he's laid up too. Also, the thing with the Half-Blood Prince and R.A.B was like... chapter 28 of Magic and Mind?


	31. Solid Walls

Ed leaned against the corridor wall- watching, or rather feeling- Potter tromp up and down the same stretch of the corridor under his invisibility cloak as he had been for the past hour. It was hardly the most engaging of sights, in fact, Ed had nearly turned on his heel and retreated to the common room numerous times, but the part of him that knew that there could be trouble if Harry got in was stronger.

Potter’s little conference call with the two squabbling house elves that he’d held that night in the hospital wing had been… decidedly less subtle than Ed assumed he’d meant it to be. Faced with the reality that Harry was progressing beyond suspicion to full-on stalking, Ed had been unsure how to move forward. On one hand, Dumbledore already knew what was happening which meant he was unlikely to act if Harry came to him with proof… but if Harry didn’t make a report, chose to confront Draco on his own… That would be bad.

However, despite knowing Harry's intentions, He’d been confined to the hospital wing for another four days after he'd left. Another four days of drifting in and out a dreamland willy-nilly kept from anything productive. It had been so long that when Harry finally returned to his dorm he worried that he may have been too late. He hadn’t seen Draco since he’d come to see Ed in the hospital- But Dumbledore also hadn’t reappeared to speak to Ed, and Ed liked to think that he’d be courteous enough to let him know if things had gone horribly wrong in his absence.

But Draco had been sitting on his bed when Ed entered their shared room, not caught in Harry's quest for truth, just unwilling to visit Ed again. Other than a brief locking of their eyes there was no acknowledgment of what had passed between Ed and himself. No verbal one at least. Draco was colder, cautious, and the dark circles under his eyes had returned with a vengeance. It wasn't an angry freezing out, but an effort taken in a desperate act of self-preservation.

Draco wasn't much for emotions, but unlike Lizzy's practiced blase nature, he seemed to develop something of a backlog. There reached a point where what Draco had ignored in the name of uncaring, simply spilled out almost uncontrollably. Ed was fairly certain that Draco considered him a friend, and even then he’d been mere inches away from wiping his memory for a second time when he’d learned that Ed had known he was responsible for the poison. Harry and Draco’s relationship was decidedly less sunny- Ed couldn’t imagine either of them taking the road of diplomacy. No, if the two of them met as a result of Harry's pursuit, Harry accusing, Draco cornered, there would be blood spilled. And if Harry was hurt, Dumbledore would be forced into action. There would be no saving Draco from himself, no trying to put things right. If Harry ended up on the bad side of a duel, it would all be for nothing.

He'd caught a glimpse of the boy as he'd exited the dining hall, seeing him under the cloak he knew he had to be following up on something the elves had found for him. So, knowing that, Ed watched Harry cross the hall again. This time though, it seemed Harry had reached the end of his patience too. “Goddamn it!” he crowed eliciting screams from a gaggle of first years that had just begun to turn the corner. That due to his cloak, remained unable to see him.

“Showing signs of insanity?” he called out as Harry wrenched off the cloak and shoved it in his bag. The Gryffindor jumped and whipped around.

“Ed,” He breathed out, “What are you doing here?”

Ed nodded back towards the ground Harry had been aggressively treading just moments earlier, “Just enjoying the show,” Harry snapped his mouth shut, no easy defense coming to his lips, “I’d figure you’d want to steer clear of here, considering,”

“Considering what?” 

Ed shout him a bemused look, “Considering the last time you were here, was locked inside while one of our classmates hoped I’d turn into a werewolf and eat you,”

“Oh, right,”

“So then, what’s up? What’s brought you back?”

“We used this place as a headquarters last year, for a defense club,”

“Dumbledore’s Army, right?”

“Right,” So that would be how Draco found out about the place then, Ed thought to himself. He’d heard some of the Slytherin’s talking about busting the club last year with Umbridge. The rooms adaptability would make it the perfect place to do… whatever it was Draco was working on.

“So why are you back here again? Thinking of starting it back up?”

“No-” Harry winced, and Ed had to fight back a grin as the boy accidentally dismissed the easy out he’d given him, “I mean- I was just coming to...see,” Harry finished weakly.

“Having trouble?”

“What?”

“You’ve been ‘seeing it’ for about an hour now, having trouble getting in?”

“Have you been standing there the whole time?” Harry sounded disgruntled and a little put off by the thought.

Ed only shrugged, “You passed me in the hall under that cloak of yours, I didn’t have anything more interesting to do,” Internally Ed rolled his eyes, he could think of so many things he’d rather be doing than watching Harry Potter think really hard at a wall, “Figured I’d see what trouble you were getting up too,”

“It’s none of your business Ed,”

“Tetchy,” he said raising his hands in surrender, “Sure thing, Harry, we’re all about minding our own business here.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, almost challenging, full to the brim with Gryffindor pluck, “Ed-”

“Best hurry if you don’t want to be late to class,” Ed called as he dipped back around the corner, his easy smile falling from his lips. He wondered if this was Truth’s idea of a joke, cursing him to be put at the mercy of a meddlesome teenager, like some cosmic retribution for all the trouble he’d caused over the years for his superiors. 

He was still contemplating Truth as some form of demented universal storybook character, sowing life lessons and karmic justice on the unsuspecting masses, as he slid into his desk in DADA. Snape loomed above the class from his desk, marking roll with such visceral contempt Ed again wondered why the man had bothered to become a teacher. Was it purely strategic on Dumbledore’s part? Or had the man once been starry-eyed and hopeful only to have it beaten out of him en masse by generations of uncaring students?

...Probably not the second one. Certainly, if Remus and Sirius’s stories of how much of a prick the man had been as a kid were true.

“Late again, Potter,” Snape's robes swept behind him as he made his way center. Around himself, Ed could make out the faint cursing of his classmates. “That will be ten points from Gryffindor,”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ed watched as Harry’s jaw tightened harshly, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Not off to a very good start,” Pansy whispered to him, her voice only fractionally lowered.

“Doesn’t seem to be,” he observed blandly back. DADA could be a real crap shoot of productivity. The amount the class was able to accomplish directly correlating with how much Severus seemed to have it out for Harry on any given day.

“Sir?” Ed’s gaze snapped up, the Irish lilt was blunter than Elizabeth’s and belonged to a pale Gryffindor seated near Ron. “I’ve been wondering, how do we tell the difference between a ghost and an Inferius? Because there was this thing in the paper-”

“No there wasn’t,” Snape replied sounding both bored and irritated that his lesson plan had been interrupted.

“But I saw-”

“If you would have actually read the article you are referencing, Mr. Finnigan, you would know that the “Inferius” was nothing but a trick by a low life by the name of Mundungus Fletcher,” There was muttering to Ed’s left. Snape, it appeared, had heard it too, “But it seems that Mr. Potter has something to say of the subject?”

“Here we go,” someone breathed on Ed’s other side.

“Do tell, Mr. Potter, how does one tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost?”

Ed almost cursed as Harry froze under the teacher’s gaze, “Er- well- ghosts are transparent-”

“Lovely,” Snape said, his lips curling cruelly, “Ghost’s are transparent. I see Hogwarts has served you well Mr. Potter,”

Pansy let out a sharp laugh in the silence, and Ed rolled his eyes under his closed lids

“So what!” Harry spat, Ed felt tense, “ghosts are transparent, Inferi are dead bodies, right? So they’d be solid, right?” Ed’s jaw tightened as Harry’s voice raised. He could see Snape rearing back for the kill, and with a tense exhale he raised his hand.

“What, Elric?” Snape hissed, clearly unhappy with someone else butting in.

“Inferi are corpses that have been improperly raised via Dark Magic. They’re puppets basically, no independent thought. Ghost’s are still capable of their own thoughts, feelings, and agency… and,” Ed added as an afterthought, “they’re transparent,” There were a couple of giggles from around the room, but despite his weak joke, Ed's mood had dimmed significantly. he couldn't help but think, how would that go down? how would things play out if he told the truth? Like, ‘excuse me, class, I have one less fact to share with everyone. You know those undead monsters you live in fear of? Yeah, my old man made those’. Yeah right.

“Yes, Mr. Elric, you are correct,” Snape said, obviously unhappy, “and Mr. Finnigan, ten points from Gryffindor for wasting our time.

The lesson that proceeds described the Cruciatus Curse in excruciating detail and Ed felt his eyes wandering from classmate to classmate watching as many of their demeanors waned as they progressed, the reading leaving a rotten taste in their mouths. Draco in particular, who was sitting only a few desks over from him, had taken on an almost glassy sheen to his eyes, and, Ed was fairly certain they were no longer scanning the page. Lizzy seemed the least affected, running through the book with a disaffected efficiency that left Ed both terrified and envious.

A couple Slytherin’s fell on the other end of the spectrum however, Nott’s lips, in particular, had taken a somewhat gleeful slant to them, an excitement flashing in his gaze that turned Ed’s stomach. The reading was nothing Ed hadn’t scanned before, the books found in the Black family library were a good deal more graphic, but the textbook still didn’t mince words. Despite his growing familiarity with the magic detailed before him, He couldn’t say he found it much less upsetting. Though, he had to admit he was having a hard time focusing on the task at hand. The idea that with Voldemort’s rise and Ed’s own involvement in things, that he might one day come face to face with Hohenheim's own failed human transmutation- or whatever they really were- turned his stomach.

Gryffindor lost thirty more points before the end of class, and Ed watched in his periphery as Hermione’s hold on Harry tightened with each new demerit. As they were released from class Draco got ahead of him, subtly trying to lose him in the crowd, but Ed wouldn’t allow him to get away.

“Draco,” Ed called, “Draco, wait up,”

“What?” He hissed, head down as he shouldered a Ravenclaw boy out of the way.

“I need to talk to you,”

“Not now Ed,”

“No,” Ed said, lunging forward and grabbing ahold of his arm, “I need to talk to you,”

Draco yanked his arm free harshly, clutching it to his chest as if to limit Ed’s options if he were to make a grab at him again. He scanned the crowded hall with narrowed eyes and gestured down a side hall with his head. “What do you want?” He said, keeping his back to the open walk, carefully not caging himself against the wall.

“Potter knows about the Room of Requirement,”

A wide array of emotions flashed over Draco’s face in rapid succession. Fear, confusion, dread, anger, panic, all warring across his pale features until they settled on cold indifference. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Sure,” Ed said, blandly, “I’m sure you don’t. I’m sorry for my completely useless information,”

He didn’t want to start a fight with Draco here. He still worried Draco’s decision about the poison might be a tenuous one. The tension between him and Lizzy was palpable in their every interaction, and if anything, Ed’s knowing agreement to not tell on him seemed to have wound Draco up even tighter.

“Ed-” Draco cut himself off as Ed reached the mouth of the hall, determined to leave before he said something that pushed the stressed boy over the edge. “I- never mind,”

“See you at lunch Draco, I’ll save you a seat.”

\---

The frustrating tensions among his housemates remained all through the Easter Holidays, fueled by the fact that none of them had been given permission to return home. While Pansy seemed more relieved than anything, and Lizzy was downright smug, Blaise had been kicking up an awful fuss ever since his mother had written back to inform him of her decision.

“She’s probably off getting fucking married again,” he’d growled as he viciously kicked an armchair that had done nothing wrong. “Doesn’t she understand I’ve got to leave!?”

Lizzy had responded with a quiet hum from where she and Pansy sat playing cards in silence. Blaise’s words to her had been neither forgotten or forgiven, and strange acts of random debilitating inconvenience had been driving him insane ever since. Ranging from the juvenile (His inability to ever locate his left shoe) to the hazardous (The lock on the cage of one of Hagrid’s beasts coming undone at the exact moment Blaise happened by) none of it could be traced back to her, and, for their own sakes, the other members of the house, present or not at the time of their fight, played dumb. The others outward conviction that Blaise had encountered the master of all strings of bad luck but nothing more drove him closer to the edge with each passing day.

Ed had inquired to Pansy if they shouldn’t throw him a bone once and awhile. She had shaken her head somberly and warned Ed that to acknowledge the curse was to accept it on himself. Blaise thus remained boneless.

Draco was… being more careful. If by being more careful, you meant high strung and paranoid. While Ed had no doubt that his warning had contributed to this, he couldn’t find it in him to regret it. Confrontation with Harry was to be avoided at all cost.

Speaking of which… Ed watched Harry stroll across the grass, his arms swinging loosely at his sides more of a pep in his step than Ed had ever seen. He was instantly suspicious.

“Potter!” he called, waving his automail above his head.

“Oh, hello Ed!” Harry replied with a grin that was spread across his face to an unnatural degree. Eyes narrowed, Ed took a step forward to peer into his classmate's eyes.

“Alright then?” 

“Oh I’m lovely, it’s just wonderful out tonight don’t you think?” Harry’s voice bordered on sing-songy as he gestured around them.

“You’re… Happy,”

“Why, yes I am,” He replied, the grin never dropping, “I suppose I have been terrible lately,” He clapped a hand on Ed’s shoulder causing him to rear back in surprise. “I’ve been a right prick to you,”

“That’s alright,” Ed said as he extracted himself from Harry’s grip.

“Well, I mean to say. Maybe I’ve judged you a bit harshly,”

“That’s nice?”

“It’s the snake thing you see,” Harry let out a faint hiss, and Ed felt a piece of his soul leave his body, “Haven’t had the greatest experiences with your lot,”

“I see…”

“But really Ed, you seem like a swell guy- a bit shifty maybe- but decent,”

“Harry are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“And, Sirius liked you,” Harry’s smile flickered for a brief moment, “I think I might be a bit jealous of you Edward. I’ve never wanted anything more than to be able to live with him… and I never got that chance, but you did. I shouldn’t be mad about that, but I rather think I am,”

Ed’s brow furrowed further as Harry made a move to turn away, “Where are you going now?”

“Oh!” Harry said, upbeat tone resuming, “I’m off to see Hagrid, and have a word with Slughorn at some point,”

“You do realize it’s almost dark?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m sure everything with work out!” He spoke with such a degree of definite confidence Ed nearly dropped his face into his hands.

Oh. Of course. “You took your luck potion didn’t you?” Harry grinned madly and Ed rolled his eyes, “Stay out of trouble,”

“Me? Trouble?”

“Fuck’n hell,” Ed grumbled as he walked away, just when he thought this place couldn’t get any weirder. He supposed that meant he should go find Draco and make sure he wasn't working on anything that could be foiled by Harry Potter jumped up on a shot full of Felix Felicis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late, I was trying to get it out in a timely manner because I know it's unlikely there will be one next week... but things just did not work out that way.
> 
> Also, something I discovered as I was editing was that you can track my external stress level by the number of times I say "fuck" or some variation of, in my writing. Magic and Mind has a grand total of 14, whereas Sorcery and Sigils has, before this chapter... 94... Deepest apologies to anyone who doesn't care for cursing the uptick was not a conscious decision. 
> 
> Til the next


	32. Crimson Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, folks, normally I let my tags serve as trigger warnings but I feel this chapter might warrant the additional heads up. So, that being said, If blood and or gore is not going to agree with you, when you see *** skip to the end. I'll provide a summary of what you skipped over, either for you to catch up with, or, for you to read to decide about reading past the *** point. Take care of yourself.

Whatever it was Harry had been up to, seemed to have been suspiciously unrelated to Draco. It wasn’t that Ed was unhappy that nothing potentially catastrophic had come from Harry’s dappling with Luck potions,  but it put him on edge to think that there was something else going on that Harry would deem more important than his obsession with finding out what Draco was up to.  He could only conclude he wasn’t the only one Dumbledore was whispering secrets too, only the old headmaster would have the power to keep something as important as that under wraps.

It had to be something with Slughorn. That was who Harry claimed to be off to see, and it made sense that if Dumbledore wanted something from him he would invite him to teach at the school where he would be within reach.  Plus… now that Ed thought of it, the night of his poisoning, there had been an odd tension between Harry and the potion master.  A result of a failed attempt at gleaning some… information? Possession? Was his inability to get the job done earlier the reason he’d felt driven to use the valuable potion.

Ed squinted his eyes at Draco where he sat a few seats down, sandwiched between Crabbe and Goyle, all three looking equally unhappy.  How far did the effects of the potion extend exactly? Was only your goal effected? Or did the world in general just get better for you?  Because while Harry hadn’t made any moves under the potion's effects towards Draco, Ed certainly had made some in reaction.  His well-meaning heads up, it appeared, had done little more than increase Draco’s rapid spiral into paranoia.

Pansy and Lizzy were talking around him, Ed humming in the proper places to keep up the appearance of listening, but in reality,  he was too distracted by the cold foreboding feeling that The Great Hall seemed steeped in. All of a sudden he became aware it had grown too silent.

“Huh?”

“Everything alright Eddie?” Pansy asked, a brow raised as she looked him up and down with a vaguely amused expression.  While he was happy they seemed to have come to some sort of philosophical middle ground after his conversation with Pans, Ed found he almost missed when the girls were estranged.  The two of them teamed up together was borderline terrifying.

“Yes?” Ed crossed and uncrossed his arms before resting them on the tabletop in a display of relaxation.

“You would personally vouch for the Queen of Spain’s lover Alexandria to become the next divination teacher here at Hogwarts?” Lizzy said with a purr, leaning in slightly,  giving Ed the distinct impression he was about to be eaten.

“I- what?”

“Well, I could have sworn you just told me you would,”

“Ah…”

“Yes, I do believe I just asked you if you thought she was of suitable character for the position,”

“So you did,” Ed gave a small wince.

“Which I do find rather funny, seeing as, as far as I’m aware, no such person exists,”

“What a tragedy for Her Majesty,”

“Truly,”

Pansy gave a little sigh interrupting the back and forth, “Ed, seriously, is everything alright?”

He shook his head absently, “Yeah, I think so. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know, I’ve got a bad feeling,”

“Don’t ignore it,” Lizzy said setting her glass down.

“What? Really?”

“Call it a sixth sense,” she gave an absent wave of her hand, “You don’t have to have the gift of prophecy to occasionally pick shit up- just have to be open to it,  have a good feel for the magic around you,”

“You really think so?”

“Doesn’t hurt to be careful,”

“Has it… y’know, helped you before?”

“Trust your instincts, Ed,” Pansy said bumping into his shoulder. She flicked his braid between two of her fingers sending it back into his face,  Ed batted her away with a roll of his eyes- his gaze suddenly caught by some quick movement out of the corner of his eye.

Draco was standing frozen in the no man's land between House tables, eyes blown open wide, hands shaking faintly at his side.  Ed’s muscles tensed as he followed Draco’s sightline. The Great Hall bustled with energy, seemingly unaware of the tension ratcheting through its heart as Draco and Harry stared each other down.

Ed watched as Harry slid backward and for a moment he thought they were going to draw wands then and there, the whole school as their witness.  Then, he saw it. It wasn’t the sight of Harry that had frozen Draco, it was the girl beside him. Angelina Picket, back at Hogwarts at long last.

Ed darted his gaze back to Draco just in time to see the boy give a deep full body shiver and turn on his heel, head down, fists clenched frighteningly tight at his sides.  “Draco?” Pansy said quietly, making as if to stand only to be stopped as Lizzy’s arm darted across the table top sharply and took hold of her wrist.

“Don’t,”

“What?”

“Just… not this time,”

Ed, however, was bound by nothing, and shot to his feet. Elizabeth and he locked eyes, something cool and resigned looked back at him through her gaze, but she said nothing.  Harry shot past him, leaving a faint breeze as his robes trailed behind him as he stalked after Draco in a near run.  This was it, this was the confrontation he’d been dreading. Stepping away from the table, he sent one last glance over to the girls, Pansy’s pained confusion and Elizabeth's murky chill, and hurried away.

His shoes struck the stone ground unevenly as he hurried after the other boys, having disappeared down one of Hogwarts seemingly endless twisting corridors.  He listened carefully for the sound of running but detected nothing. With a curse he reached out internally, searching for their magic.  But it was too much, too many people, ghosts, and paintings fliting throughout the school. He couldn’t narrow it down, couldn’t drown out the flood of sensory information.

“Mr. Elric,” The low voice jerked Ed back, his vision swimming and his head pounding as it still struggled to make sense of the sheer universal forced he’d submerged it in.  “A word Mr. Elric, if you would,” The Bloody Baron floated behind him, silver blood glinting eerily in the torchlight.  “I feel we have postponed a necessary conversation for long enough,”

“No!” Ed cried his eyes wide. The ghost’s gaze narrowed, his form flickering in a way Ed could only think indicated anger.  “I’m sorry, really, but I can’t- not now!”

“There is something more important?” The Baron hissed with an air that told Ed that he very highly doubted it.

“Yes! I promise. I need- I need to find Harry, Harry Potter, and Draco Mal-”

“Malfoy, yes, I am aware of the members of my own house,” he said shortly, “the troublemaker Potter is not unknown to me either,”

“Have you seen where they’ve gone? I need to find them, It’s important!”

“So you say,” the ghost looked at him for a long moment, each second seemed to stretch to years as Ed anxiously glanced around, “Do not think I have forgotten about the conversation you owe me, ” The Baron spoke as he gestured up a set of stairs that slotted themselves in place as Ed looked.

“I won’t!” Ed swore as he took off running again.

He skidded to a halt as he reached the seventh-floor corridor, whirling around as he searched for where they could have got off too.  “Come on, come on, come on…” He muttered, his heart pulsing fiercely in his chest. “Where did you go?”

A loud crash had Ed whipping to the left, the only places that direction were the bathrooms. “Stop it!  Stop it!” came a loud scream, a girl. Ed slid his wand into his hand as he ran, the strangest sense of Deja Vu sliding over him as he realized that it was in this corridor that his fight with Garrow had begun.

The girl screamed again as Ed slid up to the room's entryway, the floor coated with a rapidly growing pool.  Shouldering inside Ed immediately found himself dropping to the floor a fractured piece of bathroom stall impacting where his head had been moments before.  Ed pushed himself up, scrambling towards the sound of running, his robes weighed down heavy with water.

_“Levicorpus!”_ a voice cried out, Harry, Ed thought in passing. The spell missed, impacting the far wall with a loud crash as shattered tile rained down.

_“Stupify!”_ Ed barely had time to recognize Draco’s voice before he was forced to dodge the spray of red light coming at him.  Ed bit back a curse, Draco didn’t know he was there, he was just firing at anything that moved.

“Oh fuck’n hell,” he grunted as he threw up a shield charm. As more projectiles came hurling his way.

“Stop fighting! Stop fighting!” The girl cried out again. Ed looked to her, throwing an arm out to warn her to get back only to reel in shock as his arm passed straight through her.  Ed clutched his arm to his chest, the automail burning with an icy cold that swept through his entire body.  The ghost screamed.

Another explosion shook the room, this time a pipe burst, covering the floor even further. “I’m sorry!” Ed called to her wildly, his hands raised apologetically even as he tried to keep an eye on the obstructed fighting, “I’m trying to help.  I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get them to stop fighting. I didn’t mean to do that,”

The girl sniffled loudly, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Ed said with an enthusiastic nod, “Of course,” He flinched as a piece of piping crashed nearby.  Someone gave a loud cry, and Ed caught Draco scrambling behind cover a trail of blood streaming down his face.  “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go,” She floated away, and although she resumed her cries for them to stop, Ed felt oddly that she was enjoying herself.

Ed drew a deep breath before tucking and running towards Draco who has hidden nearest to him. The other boy's chest was heaving wildly and his pupils were blown wide, shaking slightly as he turned to fire off a curse.

Ed knew it would be bad the second the spell formed on his lips, the feeling of dark sick magic reared its head.  “ _Crusi-”_

_ “-SECTUMSEMPRA!” _

Ed hardly realized he was doing it, the coiled muscles in his legs propelling himself forward, his shoulder impacting harshly with Draco.  He didn’t know what made him move, the knowledge that casting that spell could very well be the end of everything, or if it was the feeling of poisonous black that Harry had returned fire with.

 

***

 

For a moment all he felt was the harsh impact with the floor, his skull colliding with the tiles, his automail wrist snapping back as his arm hit the ground in front of Draco.  But then… fire. Ed let out a choked gasp as his entire right side lit up in pain, the water around him rapidly blurring into a bright crimson.  Hot blood pooled around his clavicle, and as he pawed weakly with his left hand he found the slash along the side of his neck it poured from.

“Ed?” out of the blurry corner of his eye, he could see Draco rise to his knees, the other boys gaze slowly meeting his own.  “Ed? Fuck, no-” Draco gave a little cry as he went down again, some of the blood soaking into the white of his uniform shirt it seemed was his own.  In particular, a long garish streak of red coated his stomach, and while Ed couldn't tell how deep it was, he could see the way Draco’s face twisted as he attempted to push himself forward.

Draco heaved himself forward again, pale trembling hands pressing harshly down on Ed, struggling to keep the blood inside. Ed’s vision began to grey, the sound in his ears cutting out at odd moments like he was underwater. He heard splashes, quick frantic footsteps through the water growing nearer. 

“Ed?” 

“Get away! Just get the fuck away!” 

“I- Ed? I didn’t-” 

“Murder!” A shrill voice screamed and Ed tried to pull back only to be held still by a firm grasp, “Murder!  Murder in the bathroom!”

"Jesus, his arm- what's wrong with his arm?"

"I said get away!"

More splashing.

“Professor- I didn’t-”

“Let me see-”

“Professor-” 

“Step aside Mr. Malfoy-”

“I can’t!” Draco’s hands shook around Ed's throat, losing some of their earlier tightness in his franticness, “there’s too much blood, I can’t!  He’ll die!”

Die? Who would die? Who was dying?

Suddenly the hands were gone, and Ed’s eyes flickered open despite him not knowing when they had shut, black eyes filling his field of vision.  Words were mumbled, and there was a sudden tightness at the skin of his throat that had him gasping and fighting for air.

“Immobulus,” the voice hissed, Ed’s body locked up against his will, his throat pushing out an involuntary whimper.  His head swirled and mixed things up. The bathroom became Slughorn’s office became the basement of the old Black manor became the mine shaft became the stone dais at The Department of Mystery.

Something crumpled at his side, and Ed felt the figure above him pull away sharply, a low hiss filling his ears, “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt as well?”

Ed rolled his neck to the side, new blood no longer flowed from it, but his entire front was covered by the rapidly cooling substance.  Draco’s pale body was sprawled out beside him, the blood from his wound had spread far further than last Ed had been able to make out, soaking his shirt almost in entirety. His pale eyes were laced with pain, his lips moved but whatever he was saying fell on deaf ears.

For a moment everything was dark, pain flaring back to life, and when the light returned he found himself no longer lying in the water, but on the thin canvas of a stretcher floating in the air.  For a second, one brief moment his eyes met Harry’s. There was so much there. A desperate longing, fear, guilt, pain, he looked terrified- almost as if he too had been split open.  But then, the moment ended, and Ed’s eyes slid shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed intervenes in Draco and Harry's fight taking the brunt of Sectumsempra which includes having the side of his neck slit open. Draco gets a deep slash to his stomach and yells at Harry to go away as he attempts to stop the bleeding. While this exchange is ongoing, Harry notices something odd about Edward's arm. Snape arrives and fixes Ed's neck wound before having to stop to tend to Draco. Ed blacks out and awakes floating on a stretcher.


	33. Automail

  
Was there a word for being caught up in an overpowering wave of stress and fear and guilt and anxiety, while also being simultaneously numb to it all? Harry’s hands trembled at his sides, his wand just bearly gripped by numb fingers. There was water soaking through his shoes, pooling in the dark wool of his socks, and creeping slowly upward around his ankles. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that Myrtle had fallen silent, seemingly she had lost interest now that nobody was paying her any mind.

Harry felt disturbingly and undeservingly clean, in sharp contrast to the crimson bloom slowly diluting in front of his eyes. As the blood faded, it left the surrounding water an odd pinkish tone, more innocent in appearance than it had any right to be.

What had he done? What the fuck had he done?

He didn’t know why he'd cast it, he didn’t know why- no. That was a lie. He knew exactly why he'd used that curse. _For Enemies,_ The Prince had said.

Fuck, what had he done?

There was so much blood. Edward- where had he even come from? Edward had just been dripping in it, Red pouring from the wound in his neck. The wound that Harry had caused.

And… Draco, his stomach looked as if someone had taken a sword to him- hacked away at him like a training dummy... the way he’d stumbled forward... pained and fighting back every escaped gasp and moan.

He flinched back at the memory of how Draco’d screamed, demanding that Harry get away, shielding Ed as if he expected Harry to attack again.

Fire crawled its way up his throat and Harry found himself retching off into the remains of a shattered bathroom stall. A cold clammy grip took hold of his spine and shook him violently. Harry snapped his eyes closed against the shutters that wracked his frame. He couldn’t look at the destruction that he’d incited any longer.

Ed had told him, hadn’t he? Told him to stay away, that Draco wasn’t any of his business. But he’d been so sure, so sure that Draco was planning something, that he’d thrown caution to the wind and now… and now here he stood. Draco and Ed hurt God only knew how bad.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that Madam Pomfrey was a more than capable healer. He knew that she had proven herself time and time again with his friends and Harry himself and that Draco and Ed would be fine if they got to her. But… he couldn’t quite push that thought to the forefront of his mind. His head, instead, was flooded by the memory of a seemingly impossible amount of blood.

His legs went weak beneath him, one of his hands shot out sluggishly to catch him as he went down, the action leaving Harry braced in a half-collapsed squat on the floor of the girl's bathroom. Something ugly and dark wrapped itself around his heart, tearing him down from the high of his previous accomplishments. Slughorn’s memory and the progress he’d made with Dumbledore meant nothing, his stupid childish joy in seeing Ginny and Dean’s relationship fall apart just felt vindictive and meaningless.

Goddamnit, what had he done?

What was he going to tell Ron and Hermione? Did he beg Hermione for her forgiveness, for not listening to her, for trusting The Prince? But it wasn’t even really The Prince’s fault, was it? It was his, all his. He could see the disappointment on their faces in his mind's eye. Hermione, Dumbledore, Lupin, Ron- Hell, the Weasley family in its entirety would probably never want to see him again. Using Dark Magic like that, because it couldn't be anything else... who did he think he was?

What happened if they didn’t get better? What happened if they died? Draco… he’d seemed almost alright until the end there- until he’d collapsed. But Ed! His throat gushing blood, his side split horizontally in multiple places, his arm…

Harry’s brain stuttered to a stop.

His arm? He couldn’t be remembering that right. It must have been the glare of the lights, a deposit of tile dust creating an optical illusion, something! Because… well, it looked like Ed’s arm had been made of metal. And that wasn’t… that couldn’t…

Almost in spite of common sense, Harry felt himself look back, scanning through and cataloging every interaction he could remember ever having with Ed. Anything that could… nothing.

Harry couldn’t call to mind a single memory in which He’d ever seen Ed’s arm, not a single memory where he’d ever seen him without his gloves- wait no, that wasn’t right. The night of Slughorn’s party, he’d pulled up his sleeve to show he didn’t have The Dark Mark. His arm had been flesh and bone then hadn’t it?

Harry opened his eyes slowly, his gaze crawling over the scene critically taking in everything he could. Ed had come in from the left, the side of the bathroom with the exit, which meant that the side of his body that had taken the impact was his right… The Dark Mark was on the left forearm. Harry had seen Ed’s left arm, had only ever seen his left arm…

Could it be?

Moody had prosthetics. The peg leg and his enchanted eye. But the peg leg was just that, a peg. Simple, crude, nothing like what would be necessary to give Ed, all but in appearance, a functioning arm. He supposed it could be enchanted… but then why not something more realistic? No, scratch that, it had to be enchanted. Muggle tech didn’t interact well with magic, that's why Moody had something as simple as a peg leg in the first place.

But that brought Harry to the question of how. If the bones in his arm could be regrown, then he had to believe that a whole arm could, why not just do that? Why use a metal arm?

Was he crazy? Had it really just been a trick of the light?

Why wouldn’t he regrow it?

Why not?

How?

Then it hit him. Dark Magic.

If Ed truly had a metal arm, had a metal arm because healing wasn’t an option, it had to have been Dark Magic that severed it. Ed had said the Death Eaters had been holding him before, that Sirius had been the one to get him out. Could they have been the ones who did that to him? Was it from something else entirely? Some other unrelated incident of dark magic?

A sick heavy feeling impacted his gut. If the Death Eaters had done it... Ed had said he'd only remained safe for as long as he had because Voldemort hadn’t connected Edward Elric to The Golden-Eyed Boy he was hunting for. What if… If the Death Eaters had hurt him, and Harry had accidentally shown Draco his arm… if Draco told someone…

What had he done?

\---

When Ed peeled his eyes open he was met by the sight of open curtains. He was in a bed- his bed- in the infirmary, turned on his side propped in place by an irrational amount of pillows, but the curtains that normally hid him from the view of the rest of the room were pulled open on one side. The bed they gave him a clear view of was not unoccupied, although there was no one under the covers.

Draco sat facing him, forearms braced on his legs as they hung limply over the edge, head inclined downward. “Draco?” The other boy hummed but continued to make eye contact with the floor. “What’s going on?” Ed’s voice was dry and scratchy, and when his question elicited no response he moved to lean forward. Pain lanced through his entire side and he left out a sharp hiss through his teeth, his knees pulling up tightly to his stomach.

“-op, stop Ed, you have to relax,” Ed let himself be pulled back into the position he’d woken up in by thin hands. When he managed to open his eyes again Draco was leaned over him, faced pinched with concern. As soon as they made eye contact he dropped his gaze, pursing his lips as he bent down to retrieve Ed’s blanket from the floor-

Ed's eyes widened in the sudden realization that his right side was bare to the world. His left hand clawed across his chest and sure enough, they were met with the cold sharp tang of metal. Draco twisted the thin hospital blanket in between his fingers, before awkwardly jutting his arm out to offer it to Ed.

After a moment, Ed made to reach out, only for his automail to fail to respond. “Fuck,” he hissed, fighting to keep the twisted flood of helplessness off his face.

“Uh,” Draco’s arm wavered uncertainly, glancing everywhere but Ed, like the walls could give him a clue on how to proceed.

“Just-” Ed rolled his eyes upward, fighting off the flush that threatened to rise in his cheeks, “I can’t- um, I can’t take it,”

“What?”

Ed shook his head slowly, bottom lip half pinched in his teeth, “My arm- it’s… uh, It’s not working,”

Draco seemed to pale even further than he already was. He moved forward in stunted quick movements, laying the blanket over Ed with an air of discomfort. Then he pulled away as quickly as he’d moved forward, collapsing back down on the edge of his bed. Neither of them spoke, the silence of the room becoming more suffocating with each passing second.

“She’ll- uh, Madam Pomfrey that is- she’ll be back shortly,” Draco said, breaking through the quiet, “She was here just a bit ago, looking you over- I don’t think she thought you’d wake up so soon.”

“Well, I’m contrary like that,”

“Right… yeah,”

Ed let out a low sigh, shifting in bed as much as he dared, “Just spit it out,”

“What?”

“Just get it over with, Draco. Say what you want to. Don’t lie to me and say you don’t know what I’m talking about,”

Ed watched as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, eyes swimming with too many things for Ed to pin down. “Why did you do that? Take that spell for me?”

Ed’s eyes widen in surprise, “What? Wait, seriously? That’s what you’re asking about?” Draco gave a small nod. “Fuck, I mean- as shocking as this might sound, you're my friend so why the hell wouldn’t I?”

An angry flare crossed over Draco’s face, “Why the hell-? Are you kidding me, Elric? You could have died! You almost did you asshole!”

“And If I hadn’t, you might’ve! You have no idea what that spell could have done!”

“Neither do you!” Draco shot to his feet, “You had no idea what you were doing, you just fucking did it! Where do you get off throwing your life away like that, huh? Why would you do that for someone like me? After everything I’ve done- after everything I’ve done to you?” he was shaking, his arm trembling as he pointed at Ed accusingly, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Draco…” Ed breathed softly, “I told you, you’re my friend,”

“I shouldn’t be!” Tears pooled in the pale boy’s eyes, one hand coming up to card through his hair harshly, “I shouldn’t be,”

“Why the hell not?” Ed said firmly, fighting to lock their eyes. “Why the hell not? Because you hurt me? Because you’ve made bad choices, done bad things? So have I!” he growled as Draco ducked his gaze, “So the fuck have I,”

“Not like-”

“-Not like you?” Ed interrupted, wishing that he had the ability to reach out and grab him. “Maybe not. I’ve never planned to kill someone, I’ll give you that. But I’ve wanted to, I've tried to. Once my little brother had to pull me off a man to keep me from bashing his skull in.” Draco’s gaze rose slowly, “and when I found out that he’d been killed anyway? I felt nothing. Still, to this day, the only emotion I can muster is guilt that my brother had to see me that angry.”

“It’s not-”

“I’ve run with killers, worked alongside monsters, so-called and real, my father… my father is partly responsible for more death than you can possibly comprehend. While I may have never killed a man with my own two hands, my actions have resulted in so, so, much blood over the years, Draco. So don’t say that your faults make your life less valuable than mine because if we’re using our sins and mistakes as a metric, you don’t even touch me,”

It was odd putting that all into words finally. As he’d begun to talk, his mind wouldn’t stop providing him with more and more instances where his actions had resulted in the deaths of others. Hughes for getting him involved, Nina for not getting there fast enough, The people of Liore the homunculus had been free to butcher because he’d never thought to look back, Elia, the Rosiers, Sirius… So much blood.

“I jumped in front of that spell because you’re my friend, Draco, and I didn’t want to see you hurt,”

Draco's protesting fell silent. “I really don’t know very much about you, do I?”

Ed had to laugh, “No Draco, I don’t suppose you do,”

Draco’s lips twitched, despite his lingering discomfort. He settled himself on the edge of his bed crossing his ankles slowly in a semi-obvious bid for time. “Is that how you got the…”

“The arm?”

“Yeah,”

Ed frowned a little as he considered how to go about this. The truth was, like it or not, this was now a conversation they had to have. “Help me sit up?”

“You sure?” Draco asked, hands hesitating at Ed’s sides, “Your right here is pretty-”

“Fucked up, I know. But I can’t have this conversation lying down,”

Carefully as he could, Draco helped slide Ed upright, bracing him when the flares of pain made Ed want to curl up into the fetal position. Subtly Ed wiggled his automail toes under the covers, thankful to find they still moved on command. Protected, as the leg was by the rest of his body, it had been spared the destruction when Harry’s spell hit.

Ed allowed himself a moment's pause to catch his breath as he found himself at least semi-vertical, his right side humming angrily from the movement. He didn’t seem to be bleeding, and lightly probing fingers told him that each of the slashes had been covered by a thin layer of newly formed scar tissue. Dragging his fingers upward, Ed kneaded the healing gash along his throat lightly. It was deceptively small for how close to death it had brought him.

“Madam Pomfrey says I’ve got at least another day of blood replenishing potions before I can get out, I imagine you’ve got a bit more than that, all things considered…”

Ed hummed and pulled his fingers back to quell the anxious buzz that was beginning to grow under his skin at the stark reminder of how close he’d been to never seeing Al again. “Right, yes, let's get on with it. What do you want to know?”

Draco froze for a moment in a way that betrayed his uncertainty facing the whole situation. “So it’s… metal then, your arm,”

“Yeah, it’s a mix of steel, aluminum, and carbon fiber- it’s meant to do a lot better in colder climates than straight steel, so I’m not likely to get frostbite from it, but my ports- that’s where it connects to my arm- still don’t handle shifts in barometric pressure or extreme temperature all that well,”

Draco nodded slowly, and Ed was reminded again that Wizards didn’t seem to put all that much value in nonmagical areas of education. “Right, so…” He trailed off, a frown slowly creeping over his face, “Wait, the dungeons-”

“The dungeons suck.” Ed confirmed, “Madam Pomfrey whipped up these vessel things for me that kinda act like hand warmers, I wear them around my ports and they help with the chill,”

“So… Wait a second, ports? As in multiple?” Ed gave his left leg a solid knock, letting Draco hear the dull clang and watched as Draco continued on with his apparent goal of becoming paler than the Bloody Baron. “How did you…?”

“I was 11, my brother was 10, we were… we were trying something we shouldn’t have. The, uh, bad stuff that should never see the light of day I was talking about? That’s what we were doing.”

“Why?” Draco’s question was soft, laced with genuine curiosity, and Ed dropped his gaze.

He laughed and gave a little shrug almost defensively. “There was no one left to stop us?”

“What do you mean-”

“Nevermind, that’s not- that’s not fair of me, to put that shit on anyone but myself. It was my idea, my mistake, my fault inevitably,” Ed cleared his throat, “It backfired, basically. Alchemy demands payment equal to what you’re trying to accomplish and I got it wrong, hence,” he gestured to the motionless hunk of metal attached to his shoulder.

“That’s awful,”

Ed shook his head bitterly, “I deserved worse,”

“What?”

“It was all my idea, my plan- but when it came time to pay for it, Al- my brother, it took so much more from him,”

Draco let out a shaky breath, “What do you mean?”

“That night... from me it took my leg to stand on and my arm outstretched towards corrupted knowledge, but from my brother… from Al, it took everything. And that’s on me.”

“You were just kids,”

Ed scoffed, “I think you and I both know that doesn't really mean anything,”


	34. Dust

Harry knew that he was supposed to stay put, Snape had told him so. Somewhere in the messy chaos of his head, he remembered the professor's cold gaze on him, the growl as he ordered Harry to “stay there”. And honestly, he’d planned too. What he’d done was awful, and he’d been willing to take the consequences of his actions… no matter what they were.

Flashes filled his mind, images of himself expelled, cast aside to haunt Grimmauld Place as Sirius had. 

But, Ed. If he’d really endangered him by revealing his metal limbs, Dumbledore needed to know. Harry… and Harry needed to know how bad it really was.

His head was still a mess, but the presence of a goal- a force pushing him forward- succeeded in driving him onward. It gave him enough of a destination to put one foot in front of the other and keep walking. He kept his head down, eyes firmly fixed on the stone floor of the corridor, a trail of water forming in his wake. 

He didn’t think he passed anyone in halls, but he also wasn’t sure he was aware enough to tell. His feet carried him forward as if possessed, dragging him onward until he found himself at the entrance to Dumbledore’s office.

“Um,” Harry blinked at the unmoving stone guardians, “I need to… I have to talk with Dumbledore- Professor Dumbledore, I mean,”

There was a faint rustling and then a soft voice, “You look quite a mess,” called out a portrait to his left. “Everything alright dear?” She was a small woman with a warm smile and tight grey curls, and Harry was fairly certain the frame she was in was not her own.

“Dumbledore, I need-”

“I heard you the first time sweetheart, but I need a message to pass on. He’s really quite busy…”

“Please!” Harry half shouted, taking himself aback by his own sudden show of volume. “I- It’s about Ed, Edward Elric, If you could..?”

“Okay,” she said softly, “I’ll let him know,” she made to exit the frame only to pause at the edge, “And, are you alright? That was quite the fight,”

Harry paled, “you know-”

She sighed, seeming to recognize she wouldn’t be getting her answer. “I’ll pass on your message,” and then she was gone, leaving behind a tastefully painted landscape. For a moment nothing happened, and Harry felt small in the face of all that stillness. Then, with a faint groan stone moved, and he was given access. The walk up Dumbledore’s steps felt impossibly long for what it was, the thin stairwell tight and claustrophobic in a way it had never been before. When he reached the top, the large doors that marked the entrance to his office towered uncomfortably overhead as if the castle itself was judging him for his actions.

With a breath, Harry pushed himself inside the office. It was just as bright as it had always been, lit with more candles than seemed strictly necessary, Fawkes perched at the corner of Dumbledore's desk looking more kingly than any bird had right too. And then, in the center of it all, sat the headmaster.

Dumbledore’s hands were folded in front of him, and as Harry stepped inside he gestured with his uninjured one at a chair settled in front of his desk. He said nothing and Harry could draw nothing from himself to speak. As he settled in the chair he forced himself to draw his eyes upward, his previous urgency at war with his fear of censure.

“Harry,” Dumbledore began, and Harry couldn’t help the way his body tensed in anticipation despite the calmness of his tone, “What is it you wish to speak to me about?”

“I-” his lips twisted, fighting him every step of the way, “I’ve done something,” Dumbledore made no move to speak so Harry carried on, “Something bad I think-” he frowned, “I mean, I know I’ve done something bad, but I think maybe something worse?”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked leaning in.

“Ed, he- his arm it’s-” realization crossed Dumbledore’s face.

“Ah, I see,”

“You knew?”

“Yes, I did. Nearly as long as I’ve known him. Almost... two years now,”

“So it was like that? Before- before... The Order?”

“Yes, though I will say I believe the nature of their acquisition to be Mr. Elric’s business to disclose,” Harry nodded, that made sense, that was fine, he didn’t- well he did care, but he knew where to draw the line… or rather, he thought he did. “But that’s not all is it?” The headmaster prompted.

“No, Sir,” he said with a shake of his head, “I was worried- Ed told me that before he was with The Order he was a captive of the Death Eaters,” Dumbledore nodded in confirmation, “But he also told me that they were after him, but not after Edward Elric? That, they didn’t realize that he- the person they were after- and Ed was one and the same?” Dumbledore nodded again but slower, more considering, “And I was worried- I thought, that maybe, if it got out, about Ed’s arm- that the people who had him before, that they could make a connection between the two of them.”

His brow knitted together faintly, “Do you intended to tell others about your classmate's misfortune?”

Harry shook his head frantically, “No! No, not me, but… Malfoy…” Seeing the look on Dumbledore’s face and remembering all the arguments he’d had with his friends during the year about Malfoy he quickly continued, “Or Lucius, or… someone else. It’s just they’re around each other so often, and all it would take is little slip up in the wrong company, or Draco to mention something to the wrong person…”

“I see,” Dumbledore paused, “And Mr. Malfoy is… aware, of Edward’s arm?”

“I- I think so. When he was- when my spell hit him it was uncovered,”

“Ah, yes,” Harry tensed, “Your altercation in the women’s lavatory seems to have got a bit out of hand, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied eyes downcast, fingers picking at the damp loose threads of his robes.

“As I count myself privileged enough to have known you these last six year, Harry, I do not think you intended the destruction you caused- to either the building or to your classmates?”

“No, sir,” Harry grit his teeth, “and I know that doesn’t make things better, that ‘not meaning to’ is not an excuse-”

“-No, Harry, it is not an excuse. But motive, I think you will find, is of great importance. Your intention does not undo what has been done, but it does give it a degree of context… something I hope you will remember with others?”

Harry frowned, “You’re talking about Draco, aren’t you?”

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, “Has Mr. Malfoy done something to your knowledge that I could be speaking of?”

His hands clenched the armrests they were settled on, “No, nothing I have proof of but… but I know he’s doing something. Hermione thinks I’m insane-”

“I highly doubt that of Ms.Granger’s opinion of you, Harry,”

“She does!” Harry yelled hotly, “all of them, they look at me like I’ve lost my head! But I haven’t, I’m just trying to help… Ed said- he told me to stay out of it,” he winced, “maybe he was right, but… I can’t- I can’t let anything else happen to anyone. I just can’t,”

“Oh, Harry,” Dumbledore said quietly, and perhaps a little sad, “You take to much on yourself. The lives and whims of others are not your responsibility, and I’m very sorry that you have been made to feel that way,”

“I’m not some kid,” Harry relaxed the stranglehold he had on the armrests on his seat, “sir, not really- I don’t want to be shut out because The Order worries it will all be too much, this is all I have- this is what my entire life has become,” Harry shook his head, “It is my fault, I get that, but I’m still not sure I can just… sit by. I feel… awful about what happened- But I can’t- I just can’t-”

“Harry,” Dumbledore hesitated, “We all make mistake in our lives, and sometimes the mistakes we make are terrible terrible things, but that does not strip us of the ability to be good men. This is not your entire world, Harry, I know it feels as if that is the truth now, but one day you will see… everything truly is far grander.” he leaned forward, “You longing to protect is one of your most admirable traits, and I do not fault your motivation. But you must learn to trust us, trust me, to trust The Order, trust that you are not the only one working for the betterment of all, and, Harry?” Harry looked up to meet his eyes, “Trust Edward,”

\---

Draco wasn't really sure where his head was at as he watched Ed banter with Madam Pomfrey, trying to downplay just how often he found himself in her infirmary. Ed’s smile lit up his face, blinding white teeth stretched across the length of his jaw far too easy to be anything but natural. There was an ease about him, in the way he moved, the way he talked— it was fluid, even confined awkwardly to his bed as he was.

He’s genuine. That’s what it was.

Despite the horrific injuries they sustained, despite the fact that he was forced by circumstance to spill secrets that he’d keep the entire year, he seemed genuinely happy. 

One of the first things Draco's mother had taught him growing up was how to smile. “Your father and your peers with push you towards aloofness,” she’d told him, “when they think of men in power they picture sternness, a commanding nature, and that’s why there is nothing more powerful than good smile,” he could remember her leaning over him, dark hair in stark contrast to his own pale locks, “when you smile and smile right, people feel as if they’ve been let in on a secret. They feel as if you’ve shown them weakness, and it’s that assumption, that they have the power over you that can be so easily manipulated. People fear those they rival, but they give little thought to anyone else’s ambitions,”

He’d taken her lesson to heart, and at that point in time, it still felt more natural to smile than to scowl. It had worked for him for a time, on every person his mother directed him too-- until one day his father had seen. Lucius had told him to leave the smiling to the women, that flattery only worked on the feeble minded. He’d taught him that Malfoy pride was worth far more than cleverness, then letting people feel they were better than you. So he’d stopped.

But here Ed was, laughing, softening the hard scolding edges and worry lines of the school healers face, without seemingly a care in the world. But… the longer he watched, the more and more Draco became convinced that what he was seeing was no performance. Ed, just… smiled like that.

He watched as Madam Pomfrey finally left after giving one final stern warning, watched waiting to see if Ed’s face fell, if the grin faded away once she was gone. If it was truly an act. It didn’t. Ed rolled his head towards him, blonde hair falling loose across his shoulders. His grin flickered, “you alright?” he asked, gaze sweeping over him, analyzing.

“Fine,”

“You sure? You’ve got a look-”

“-I’m fine Ed. How are you? Feeling any better?”

Ed gave a jerky shrug, the movement halted by the presence of the heavy dead weight of his automail, “I’ll feel better once I can get out of here, I’ve never liked hospitals much. They make me restless, to much waiting around for the universe to decide whether or not you get to leave this time,”

“I suppose that’s one way of thinking of it?”

He laughed, “I’m sorry, just a bit irritated- I feel like I just got out of here. I don’t like not having anything to do, makes me feel useless,”

“How long did she say for you? Until you can get out?”

“At least a week,” Ed grumbled, “I could probably be out of here earlier, but someone needs to have a go at this arm of mine, and even after all these years, my left still doesn’t have the greatest fine motor control. So I’m gonna sit here and direct to the best of my ability when Madam Pomfrey has the time to spare- I’m guessing a week because someone at this fucking school is always in the middle of being blown up and that's bound to be distracting.”

“You know what’s wrong with it then?”

“Ehh, kinda?” Ed rolled his eyes as he saw the look on Draco’s face, “Oh relax, it probably isn't anything too bad. I’m just shit at remembering to do maintenance and I’m a couple of months overdue for a tune-up,”

“Define “a couple of months”

“Thirteen?”

“Oh for fuck's sake Ed!”

“Hey! I’ve been busy. I’m not sure you’ve noticed but I’ve had things to deal with,” he had the decency to look a little cowed though, “I mean if it’s not broke don’t fix it, right?”

“Something tells me that doesn’t apply to this situation,”

Ed rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say, boss,”

“So, you just hold still then? Is there a clasp to open it up or..?”

“Nah, I have to disconnect it for repairs, otherwise I risk shocking myself something awful,”

“You… take it off?”

“Yep,” Ed said with a nod, “The taking it off isn’t too bad, it's putting it back on that stings like a bitch- all by nerves get reconnected, and It feels like a mix between being struck by lightning and holding a lighter up under you exposed nervures,”

“It really hurts that much?”

“Yeah,”

“Then why get it? Why not go another route?”

Ed shrugged, but it looked forced this time, “After… I needed to feel as whole as I could. I needed to prove to myself I could do it, that I was still just as capable as any other Alchemist,”

“And are you?”

“Nah,” Ed grinned, “I’m better,”

Draco couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a smile. “But, when you get it fixed, you’ll be alright?”

“Good as new,”

“Really?”

“Well, mostly- probably shouldn’t get into any fights… Neither Madam Pomfrey or I are exactly experts in automail, I get the basics and she can use magic to take a look at how the circuitry had laid in the past- apparently objects leave imprints after a long time in place- but it’s not gonna be as good a job as Winry could do,”

“Winry?”

Draco watched as Ed’s face lit up and seemed to fall at the exact same time, “She’s my mechanic, her and her grandmother were our neighbors. This-” he said gesturing to his metal arm, “-Is what they both do for a living. Made me my first one and every one since. She’s fantastic,” he said, a little wistful.

“Couldn’t you, I mean- Wouldn’t it be easier to send for her? If you aren’t sure Madam Pomfrey could do the best job?”

“Yeah… that’s not really- she isn’t exactly around for me to ask,”

“...oh,” Draco didn’t know what else to say. Was there no one else left in the world for Ed? Was everyone he knew really as gone as it seemed? “Is that why- maintenance?”

Ed hummed, “Even before… it wasn’t an option, circumstance didn’t allow… I couldn’t get to her,”

“Why?”

Ed laughed and gave an exaggerated wiggle of his brow, “Haven’t you been paying attention? I’m a popular man Draco Malfoy, there’s always someone after me,”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, refusing to be thrown by Ed’s lighthearted tone.

His face faltered momentarily, “Oh, you know, Flamel, Pyxis, your father, your old man's boss…”

Draco tensed, “You’ve met-”

“You didn’t know?” Draco shook his head lightly, “fuck,” Ed breathed, “Yeah, I was invited to dinner at your Manor last year, wasn’t expected to see… well You-Know-Who in all his glory, but there he was…”

“And?”

“And what? It was awful, I spent the whole thing feeling like I was more a piece of meat than the dinner we were eating,”

“What… what did he want from you?”

Ed gave a week shrug, face far too pinched for the relaxed air he’d intended to put on, “What else, Immortality,”

Draco sucked in a sharp breath despite his better judgment, “Did you-?”

“No,” Ed shook his head, “It’s not,” he paused, “Flamel never taught me,”

“Oh, I-”

“I’d never want it,”

“What? Immortality?”

“Yeah, He- You-Know-Who, he asked, I just- I wouldn’t want it,”

“Why?” Draco asked, watching as his friend wove his fingers through the loose bed sheets.

“I don’t think anything good can come of it. I don’t think, that with that many years a person is… I don’t know, even really a person anymore? At what point- How much of what makes us human is that we die? That we grow and strive and advance in opposition to what comes next, what happens when it’s just the climb forever?” Ed shook his head, “I mean, what would you even do If you had eternity? After a time nothing could be more significant than dust in sunlight. It would fade and disappear and mean… nothing,”

“I haven’t ever thought of it that way,”

“Yeah,” Ed gave a bitter laugh, “Circumstance has made me fall down that nihilistic hole a bit more than I could have ever wanted, particularly these last few years,"

“Would you- If HE asked, would you figure it out for him? Immortality?”

Ed was silent for a long time, and then with a shake of his head, he answered, “I think it’s best for both of us if I don’t answer that question. You understand,”

And Draco did because refusing The Dark Lord was death, but… death might be better than to answer yes. But if there was one thing he knew for certain now, in his non-answer, Ed was already a braver man than Draco would ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I'm back


	35. Bottom Half of the Hourglass

Madam Pomfrey pressed her lips together in tight concentration as she carefully moved the wiring of his automail back into place. Ed directed with his left, as well as he could, fighting the urge to hang over her shoulder and watch her progress. The first time he’d done so, the school healer had treated him with a light smack, the next few times her hand had been less forgiving.

She’d cleaned out the inside with her wand before they’d begun, cutting away corrosion that had begun to form, and repairing wires that had grown frayed. Ed had almost paled when he’d seen the sizable internal dents, some of which looked as if they could date back to his initial confrontation with the Death Eaters or even to Amestris. Winry would have scalped him alive if she was there to see what he had let become of her precious work. Even he, who had been known to destroy automail at an incredible rate, had felt a little disgusted by how poorly maintained it was.

Madam Pomfrey swore quietly as his arm sparked sending Ed’s eyebrows skyward, “Everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” she grumbled, “everything's fine,”

“Are you sure?” She glared, “ah….right,”

“I will say though,” she said letting out a deep breath and brushing away the strands of hair that had escaped from her cap, “I have gained quite the respect for whoever crafted this monstrosity in the first place, it really is very impressive. It almost makes me wish I knew anything at all about muggle electronics,” She added with a pointed look towards Ed.

“I know, I know. But it’s not like I had many other options did I?”

She gave a low sigh, “Edward, with all due respect, I understand why you wouldn’t want your classmates to know- and you have done a rather incredible job keeping your little secret- but why not outsiders? Why not let professor Dumbledore know, let him find you a… specialist, someone who could help properly?”

Ed laughed, “You really think there’s a specialist for this?”

Madam Pomfrey shot him an unimpressed look, “perhaps not, but there are certainly more qualified people than me in this world,”

“I… just can’t. I can’t really explain it, but it really is best that as few people as possible know about- well, everything,”

“Alright Mr. Elric,” she said, “keep your secrets,”

With that, Ed allowed himself to sink back onto his bed, there really wasn’t much more he could do. He rotated his head to the side and took in the sight of Draco’s empty bunk, the other boy having been released days prior. As he’d expected, the repairs to his arm were slow going- one accident or other always presented itself to split Madam Pomfrey's attention and Ed was growing progressively more restless with each passing day.

Draco had given into Ed’s pleading and had at least brought his homework by hours after his own release, but Ed had not seen the other boy since. It made him nervous. The end of the year was rapidly approaching and with it Voldemort’s deadline. Time was running out, for him, for Ed, for everyone, and there seemed to be nothing he could do. Certainly not confined to his bed as he was now.

A loud crash echoed outside the door and Ed nearly screamed in frustration as Madam Pomfrey set down her wand to take a look. Lunging upright Ed gripped her sleeve as she passed.

“Edward, I’m sorry but I really must see-”

“No, no I get it, I do,” he said releasing his grasp, “But I was thinking, what if I left now?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, brow furrowing with confusion, “But your arm-”

“I’ll keep coming in for my arm, every day, I promise. But what if we just… reattached it now, and I threw on a sling?”

“Mr. Elric, I cannot possibly recommend-” A second crash rang out even louder than the first, “For the love of- does this school never rest?”

“Please,” he begged, “It doesn’t have to be right this second, you can go look and see that everyone is alright, but I just have to see more than these four walls and my curtains, I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

“Language,”

“Of for-” Ed growled, “Please?”

Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes looking him up and down, “First I will go see that no one has died,” Ed nearly cheered as he launched his remained arm above his head. The action threw his balance off and he just barely kept himself from tipping over the edge. She sent a bemused look his way before pulling his curtains tight behind her exit.

\---

The sling was irritating, the fabric was unnecessarily rough in Ed’s opinion, and forced him to carry the weight of his automail in his neck. Frankly, he couldn’t have given a shit. It felt so good to be wandering around Hogwarts's halls that he was able to forgive himself other discomforts. Fighting to keep a grin off his face, Ed quit the castle and spilled onto the grounds. The May air still held the last traces of winter in its breezes but the sun warmed Ed’s bones in a way it never could through the windows of the infirmary.

Finding himself an unoccupied spot on a grassy rise Ed allowed himself to fall backward, the impact jarring, but ultimately worth it as he breathed in the fresh air. While his right may have been bound up, his left hand was free to explore the long grass as it so wished. Weaving the strands between his fingers, he twisted them together until they felt like a cord under his thumb. 

There was a bird somewhere to his left twittering away without end or acknowledgment from another living creature. It seemed to possess an endless amount of air in its tiny little lungs. Ed could almost picture it in his mind, perched among the branches of some tree, letting the world know it had survived another winter.

And with its survival would come the death of many worms and grubs as the bird would pay for the survival of its chicks. Then, in years, or months, or weeks if misfortune was its mistress, the little bird's body would pay for the lives of many grubs and worms. The circle of life, equivalent exchange in its purest form.

The thought of it filled Ed with a deep sense of longing, so, peeling his eyes open, Ed rolled on to his stomach. Dragging his finger through the soft ground he made a small transmutation circle for Earth. It was no bigger than his thumb and crude at best, but it didn't need to be elegant for the purpose Ed had in mind.

Blue light sparked as Ed pressed his hand downward, completing the circuit and beginning the alchemical reaction. The ground seemed to seize for a moment, shuddering with the sudden influx of power, before rupturing and leaving a half foot plot of land bare and grassless. Now, this was a canvas he could work with.

Pushing himself into a seated position, Ed contemplated the ground in front of him, sizing it up, picturing all the things he could do with it. So absorbed in this, he failed to recognize the sound of approaching feet.

“Ed! I heard you were in the hospital wing again,” Neville Longbottom called, hurrying up the outcropping to stand beside him. His arms we filled almost to the point of overflowing with plant clippings. Spare branches and yellowing leaves clinging to the wool of his sweater. “It’s good to see you out and about, it’s been awhile,”

Ed craned his neck to see him, blinking back the sunlight that shown from behind the other boy’s approaching figure. “What are those all for?” he called, nodding to Neville’s direction, “Kindling for a fire?”

“No, no!” Neville nearly gasped, looking horrified by the assertion, “These are living wood cuttings, Madam Pomfrey tasked me with giving them a new home,”

“Huh, What’s that mean?”

Neville settled next to Ed cradling his cuttings like they were his own child, “Living wood is a distant cousin of sentient trees like the Whomping Willow, they don’t think, per se, but they’re intuitive,”

“How so?”

“Well, when you give living wood a new home, you give it a job- like, you could place it down in the bare bones of a fence, and in a couple of months you’ll have a living wood fence,”

“That’s cool I suppose, would you have to keep trimming it? The fence I mean?”

“Every so often,” Neville said considering, “I suppose an ever-growing fence could cause problems,”

“So what are you going to do with yours then?”

“That’s the problem,” Neville said with a sigh, “I have no idea,”

“Come on, that can’t be true,”

“It’s a class project, and originality is part of the grade. I did have ideas but everyone has already taken them,”

“That’s shit luck,”

“Suppose so,” Neville shifted again, and Ed thought it almost looked like the leaves were hugging tightly to his arms. “So what are you doing? I figure you’d be catching up with work or something like that now that you’re out,”

“Well mostly out,” Ed said gesturing to his limp arm, “I’ve still got this to deal with,” The other boy looked as if he was going to ask, so Ed continued onward, “I’m kinda working on my own project at the moment, I had to give myself something to do or I was gonna lose my mind. I’ve never liked being cooped up for long,”

“I’m sorry, that sounds frustrating,”

“Eh, I’m starting to get used to being an invalid at this point,” He meant it as a joke but Neville’s face seemed to fall at his words and he found himself grasping for something to make it up to him. “Hey, why don’t we help each other?”

“What do you mean?”

“Our projects, we both need ideas, we’ll work together,”

“Really?”

“Sure, I’d be glad to,”

Neville nodded, a smile spreading across his face, “So what is your project exactly?”

“How much to do you know about what I into before I came to Hogwarts?”

“You were an apprentice, right? To… To Nicholas Flamel! Is that it? Alchemy, you’re working on Alchemy?”

Ed pressed his pointer finger to his lips and gave a nod, “Yep,”

“Why the secrecy?” Neville said, gesturing towards Ed’s obvious sign for quiet. “I mean, practically everyone already knows about Flamel, it’s like I told you when we first met, Hogwarts doesn’t get many transfer students,”

“Sure, sure I know that,” Ed said with a wave of his hand, “But Alchemy is… fickle, if you don’t know what you’re doing things can… go very wrong. I don’t want anyone seeing and getting it into their heads to try anything, it's not really something you can or should learn without a good teacher,”

“Right, of course. I promise I won’t tell,”

Ed’s face broke into a grin and he reached over to shove Neville lightly with his good arm, “I never doubted you for a second,” The other boy laughed, curling inward to protect his cuttings.

“So what are you trying to do exactly?”

“Don’t know, I was waiting for inspiration to strike when you came along, just sitting here listening to that bird go,”

“What can you,” Neville waved his hand vaguely, “I mean, what do you need? To make this work?”

“Doesn’t really matter, just whatever I want to use to create,” A spark seemed to light behind Neville’s eyes, “What? What is it?”

“Anything, you can use anything?”

“Well, almost anything,” Ed said slowly, “I’m not messing with people or anything,”

“No, no, People? Why would you ever- no nevermind. What about living wood?”

“Living wood?” Ed asked curiously, taking in the load Neville carried.

“Yeah,” he said nodding enthusiastically, “You know, kill two birds with one stone? You can help me form the wood into something unique and you can… scratch that itch to do something, or whatever it is driving you,”

“You know Longbottom? I like the way you think,”

The two boys put their heads together, puzzling over what it was they would create. Now that Alchemy was on the table their options were far more numerous. 

“What if we made a birdhouse?”

“A birdhouse,” Ed frowned, “Isn’t that a bit… simple?”

“Sure initially,” Neville said dismissively, “But once it grows? It’ll be more of a mansion than a house. The wood has a will of its own so I imagine it’ll be cooler than anything the two of us could design,”

“You sure?”

“Definitely,”

Bending over his cleared patch of earth Ed drew the necessary transmutation circle. Even though he trusted him, Ed took pains to conceal part of the array from Neville. He didn’t seem like the type to try Alchemy for personal gain, but Ed could almost picture him in his mind's eye trying for the sake of a friend. Pressing his good hand into the soft earth he was rewarded with a light gasp as blue flashes warped the wood into one cohesive shape, a simple, and utterly unremarkable birdhouse.

Neville was utterly delighted though and held the tiny home like it was something good and precious. Ed watched him carry it over and gently settle it among the tree branches and he continued to watch as the browning leaves greened, extending outward and latching onto the trunk securely.

“Mission accomplished?”

“Definitely,”

A shadow fell over the both of them and Ed turned to see Elizabeth looking out over them, the sunlight turning the edges of her dark hair a burnt reddish color. Her face was utterly unreadable, gaze impassive as she took the sight of them in. Beside him, Ed could feel Neville tensing, a reminder that the other boy had not had generally positive experiences with his fellow Slytherins.

“Lizzy,” he addressed with a nod.

“Edward,” she said returning the gesture, “Longbottom,”

“Oh, uh, hello?”

“Mine If I steal him away?”

“No, of- of course not,” There had been nothing about Elizabeth’s tone that suggested that she’d been asking.

Ed took his time dusting off his robes with his good hand before making his way over to her, offering a little wave to Neville as he went. They walked in tense silence for a few moments until the tree disappeared into the distance and there was no one around to hear.

“What was that about?” Ed asked lightly, keeping his body language open and uncaring despite his suspicions that she had come to find him for less positive reasons.

“Draco,”

“Great. What about him, has something happened?”

“The end of the year is almost here,”

Ed stopped walking, “Yeah, I’ve noticed,” But his words seemed to have no effect as Lizzy continued to move forward undaunted. Reaching out Ed caught her arm, almost unbalancing himself in the process, “I've noticed… but why do you care?” She sent his hand a quick glance, a clear signal to unhand her, but for once Ed didn’t. “No, fuck that Lizzy. I want a clear answer here, no more cryptic bullshit. Why do you care?”

Lizzy tisked and yanked herself free, “Because Draco, as things stand isn’t going to be able to kill Dumbledore,”

Ed’s eyes widened in the face of such a bold statement and he glanced around them nervously looking for anyone who could have overheard. “What that-” Ed dropped his voice, “fucking hell Lizzy, you can’t say shit like that!”

“Oh, I thought you wanted a clear answer?” she replied just a little shittier than necessary.

“I did! But Truth-” Ed let out a little curse, “Okay, so this is a new development, because last I checked, you ‘knew shit’ but had no intention on acting on anything- and you certainly didn’t know about-”

Lizzy rolled her eyes, “yeah, so I understated some shit- I thought maybe he could do it so it wouldn’t matter,”

“He- you mean you thought Draco-” Ed held up his hands suddenly, “Wait, timeout, stop. So, originally, when you heard about all of this, this business with You-Know-Who, your first impression was ‘it doesn’t matter, he’ll just get the job done, and I’ll move on with my life’? And then, somewhere along the line, you decided Draco might not be as down with murder as you first assumed, and now… that’s a problem? I thought you weren’t on board with that shit? I seem to remember you calling it a ‘murder cult’,”

“Merlin save me,” she muttered under her breath, “Okay, Edward listen to me. I don’t want Dumbledore dead, I do however want Draco alive.”

“You and me both,”

“Yes, that's why we’re having this conversation now,” She sighed and reached up to kneed her forehead, “Draco doesn’t live unless Albus Dumbledore dies, do you understand?”

“Yes, I get the problem apart,”

“Good-”

“-But what I don’t- No,” Ed laughed, “That’s why we’re having this conversation, you want me to what? Help Draco? Kill the headmaster myself?”

“I was leaning more along the lines of help Draco,”

“Truth- but why? What’s got you invested now?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Uh, yeah? That’s why I asked, I’m not a mind reader Lizzy,”

She took a breath as if preparing to explain something to a small child and Ed did his best not to be overly offended by her testy nature. “What happens if Draco kills Dumbledore?”

“Uh, he becomes a murderer? You-Know-Who’s greatest opponent disappears? We both get thrown in jail as accessories because we knew about it beforehand?”

She glared, “Please Ed, be serious. If Dumbledore dies there won’t be a government willing to prosecute us in power much longer,”

“Oh, of course, that's the ridiculous thing about this conversation,”

She cut him off sharply, “If Dumbledore dies the Malfoy’s are forgiven,”

“Alright?”

“If the Malfoy’s are forgiven... if they return to their previous place of social standing…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,”

“This is about Pansy? She won’t run away with you because of family tradition so you want her to be with Malfoy because-”

“-Because if he kills Dumbledore, then he’ll be in favor, and she’ll be protected.”

“So… just to hell with everything? You're all in on the ‘murder cult’ now?”

“I’m trying to be pragmatic-”

“Pragmatic! Lizzy, people are going to die,”

“Don’t you think I know that!” she hissed, “That was my father who almost died this Christmas because some Death Eaters got bored and decided to blow up a restaurant! My mother who died last time they rose to power because she had the gall to sully her pureblood!”

“Then why are you just okay with this?”

“I’m not fucking okay with it! I’m bracing for the inevitable so some part of my world has a chance of surviving!” Lizzy shook her head, “I love her Edward, I really do, and that’s fucking terrifying. If she won’t run away with me, then that is her choice, but I refuse to watch her get shipped away for God knows what to happen to her!”

“So what?” Ed said, sobered by her tone, “you want me to make sure he can fish the job,”

“Yes,”

"Fuck you,"

"Oh please, it's not like he's not already dying,"

"Lizzy, what?" Ed asked exasperated. Of course, he knew, he knew Dumbledore was dying because the man had told him. How the fuck did she-

"-Nobody healthy has a hand growing that progressively shriveled and blackened. The only reason nobody else here has really caught on is that the world is half convinced he's some great immortal demi-god or something,"

“Lizzy, that’s- you have to know that’s....” It was a mess, that’s what it was. Draco was tasked by Voldemort to kill a secretly already dying Dumbledore. Dumbledore who knew that Draco was tasked with killing him, who would be killed by Snape if Draco ever stopped trying to kill him, was also wanted dead by Lizzy who saw the situation as inevitable… and then, stuck in the middle of it all was Ed, just trying to keep Draco from losing himself among the hellscape.

What had been his plan? truly, what the fuck had he thought he was going to accomplish? Confronted by Lizzy's bluntness his machinations felt trivial and best, pointless at worst. He'd offered to help Draco because he wanted to 'help Draco' not, help Draco kill Dumbledore. For all his problems with the man, Ed didn't want to see him dead- didn't want to see anyone dead- and he certainly didn't want Draco responsible for making them that way.

So what the fuck was he to do?

If he helped Draco kill Dumbledore there would be no going back, he would receive no more help from The Order, no kindness from Harry and his friends, from Luna or Neville or Remus. But Draco- he could help Draco.

If he didn't, he didn't think... Would Voldemort really kill Draco for not killing Dumbledore, or would he just be happy the man was dead? Dumbledore seemed to be betting on the last one, as had Narcissa when she'd made that vow with Snape. So could he just do nothing?

No. With Dumbledore gone... plans would advance, plans that would inevitably involve Voldemort's pet Alchemist. If Ed disappeared, hid with The Order, or vanished away with Olivia and Ashley and the pub Voldemort would come looking. He'd come looking and he'd tear through his friends. Death Eater affiliation of not- Draco, Zabini, Pansy, Lizzy... hell, probably even Crabbe and Goyle- and it would all be his fault.

Elia had already died for him. Her family had already died for him. Sirus had died protecting him. As his mind swam with the images of their bodies, Ed knew he couldn't let that happen to anyone else ever again.

“Regardless of whether or not you want Dumbledore dead, I know you want Draco alive,” Elizabeth said, her voice carrying a sharp edge that Ed didn’t like. “If you don’t do this if Dumbledore doesn’t end up dead- his death is on you. I'm giving you fair warning Elric, this shit? It's on you, because your the only one who can do anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been realizing as I've written this, that the season/time of year of the story has a tendency to match up with the outside world which is kinda meta and also really nice when I need to write weather. Granted. I'm more northern than Scotland (it was snowing here a couple of days ago to the irritation of everyone) so I'm playing this constant game of when-I-was-in-Scotland-how-much-warmer-was-it?


	36. A Ghost in the Machine

To say Lizzy was cold to him that evening would be an understatement. She carried herself with such tension, shoulders tight and slightly raised, fingers twitching gracelessly, looking comparable to a marionette that someone was only beginning to learn how to control. Ed had the distinct impression that she hadn’t meant to say much of what had passed between them earlier, and was having a rather rough time of putting herself back together again in the aftermath. For someone who prided herself for her composure, their earlier conversation had been decidedly uncouth. 

Ed still hadn’t seen Draco at all, and wherever he'd disappeared off to, he seemed to have taken Crabbe and Goyle as well leaving the common room suspiciously quiet.

“You look like shit,” Zabini announced as he walked into their shared room. The other boy was half lounging on his bed, neglected homework assignments spread out all around him.

Ed snorted, “Thanks," he began to kick off his boots, "I always know where to go to get a compliment,”

“I’m serious,” Blaise said sitting up, “You look pale as fuck. You sure all your blood is back in the right place?”

Ed waved him off, “I’m fine, just had a... weird morning,”

“Yeah, you and everybody else in this fucking house,”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well, to begin with, Draco’s a bloody phantom these days, I can’t remember the last time I saw him for longer than a couple of minutes at a time, Lizzy is about ready to rip off the head of anything that moves, Pansy looks like she’s about to shake apart playing peacemaker between those two- and honestly, I don’t think they’re even fighting?- and I caught Crabbe and Goyle smuggling girls dress uniforms this morning!” He shook his head, "I don't know what's gotten into everyone,"

“Huh,”

“That, was an underwhelming response, Elric,” Blaise grumbled as Ed gave a lopsided shrug, “What? You don’t think shit’s weird?”

“I mean at of it- except the Crabbe and Goyle thing- has been kinda par for the course, right?”

Zabini shook his head, expression twisted strangely, “But it isn’t,” he said, “I mean, it's been happening all year, but it's suddenly so much more… so much more.” he settled on, “We didn’t use to be like this. I mean, I can’t pretend we’ve always been the picture of a functional friendship, but this just doesn’t… it doesn’t track.”

“People change?”

“Oh fuck off Elric,” Blaise said with a sigh, “I blame you,”

Ed froze, “what?”

“You. Everything got… weird after you showed up,”

“I haven’t-”

“Bullshit. I’m not an idiot, Elric. I might not have fancy spies like Lizzy or the same connections Draco has, but I’m not blind. You’re good enough at this whole magic thing and were living in fucking Germany, I’m sure you could have weaseled out of coming to Hogwarts if you wanted. No, you’re here for a reason. Probably something to do with whatever the fuck is up with Malfoy- seeing as he was the one of us you knew before this year,”

“Blaise-”

“-Don’t,”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me shit, I don’t wanna know. That’s your mess to deal with and I want no part in any of it,” He ran his hand across his short hair and reclined back against his bed, “But I’m not an idiot, so do me the courtesy of not lying to my face,”

\---

Ed slept fitfully that night. Despite the joy of being able to sleep in his own bed, he was on edge. Draco hadn’t returned before lights out, his absence purposefully ignored by all the room’s other occupants, even Crabbe, and Goyle who only barely made it back by lights out. Lizzy’s words swam through his mind, twisting it out of his dreams, cold eyes condemning him for his inaction.

“...This is on you…

...Fullmetal… what do you mean he’s missing?...

...This shit’s on you…

… I blame you, everything got weird after you showed up…

...I don’t know… there’s something off-”

Ed snapped his eyes open, he was in a grand hall filled with people, his own limbs draped in fine black dress robes. His eyes scanned around him warily, he could hear the whispers of words and laughter echoing around him. Throughout the room came the quiet clicking of glass, the sounds of heels on stone. But… all around him, nobody was moving. They stood in a freeze, the perfect tableau of what a party should look like, a very familiar party in fact. He recognized the room, the high ceilings and decor built the distinctive image of the Malfoy’s great hall. Yes, there, just across the way, a frozen Lucius spoke boisterously to… Ed took a step forward through the frozen world to see… Pyxis.

Pyxis Rosier, dark hair slicked back just as Ed remembered it, eyes cutting deeply into the man in front of him…

A loud snap rang throughout the room and Ed whirled around wildly. She raised a brow at him, her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders just as he remembered, her dark skin contrasting against the white of her dress, setting her apart from the black and deep greens that the rooms other occupants all wore.

“Elia…” Ed breathed, the tightness of his throat not allowing for any more volume than that.

“Hello Edward,” Her voice rang out like a bell, cool and crisp, breaking through the muted mumbles that filled the room.

“How are- how are you here? You’re-”

“Dead? I know,” she cut him off, seemingly unperturbed by her own words. Slowly her face softened and she moved her arms open in clear invitation. He stumbled forward almost drunkenly, colliding into her form, wrapping his arms tightly around her back.

“I’m sorry,” he said into the curve of her neck, “I’m so fucking sorry,”

“It’s not your fault,” she answered softly, her hand rising and falling along his spine.

He pulled back then, dropping his gaze, “Yes, yes it is. They were looking for me, they killed you because of me, they killed your family because of me,”

“Edward,” she said, pulling his head up to face her head on, “They, killed me. They, not you,” Her dark eyes seemed to flicker between ice and flame, raw and powerful like pure energy. “The past is the past, and we must persist in spite of it,”

“I-”

“If you get too caught up in the ‘what if’s’, ‘could have been’, and ‘might've's' you’ll end up tripping over yourself and be no use to anyone.”

There was something singularly haunting about her appearance, something... something otherworldly and inhuman. She was as he remembered her, cool confidence, class and buried kindness, but still somehow... not. “How are you- how are you here?”

The warmth was absent in her touch. “Oh, Edward,” she said, smiling lightly and just a little pitying, her fingers lightly tracing his braid, “I’m not,”

And like that the world melted away, and Ed was left standing in a void.

“Hello, little Alchemist,” Part of the emptiness in front of him took form, a ghostly figure wearing his arm and leg.

“What was that?” Ed hissed, unable to keep the anger out of his tone as he took a furious step forward towards the entity, “what are you playing at?”

“No, no, Edward Elric, the little witch is not my design,” The figure bent forward, smile a grotesque approximation of glee, as it pointing at Ed with his own missing fingers, “She is your figment,”

“My what?”

“Your figment. Your very own personal ghost,”

“I don’t understand,” Ed said shaking his head as he leaned back on his heels, suddenly wanting to put space between himself and Truth.

“She’s a memory, a spirit in you synapses so to speak,” The beings laughter echoed around them both, “you’ve been thinking about her an awful lot lately. All that guilt and pain and rage tied up in the image of one woman you couldn’t save. Magic and the natural laws are in flux all around you, you aren’t meant to be where you are, but with the part of you that is you, is keeping you from being where you are meant to be,”

“Are you saying… because I keep getting pulled back she’s what? A very active figment of my imagination?”

“You made her apart of you, internalized all her lessons, believed all her words and philosophy… now the universe is tearing you apart Edward Elric. The first pieces to break off will be the ones that were never truly yours in the first place,”

“Edward,” Ed turned to find Elia had joined him among the white. Though, now that Truth had explained her, she seemed, fainter almost. Less real. The vibrancy of life was lacking, and her voice that only moments ago had felt nearly like a homecoming seemed fake. Nothing more than a cheap copy of the real thing. Elia as he remembered, not as she’d lived. The figure in front of him was an amalgamation of all the faces of Elia he’d seen as they lived alongside one another, and the result was a figure that wore her face but held not her soul.

“What does that mean? That… pieces are breaking off?”

“It means you are running out of time,” Truth waved its hand and Elia disappeared, her hand outstretched towards him. “The universe will endure, and it will rip you to pieces in its reparations. It does not care for you, Edward Elric,”

“How long?”

Truth cocked its head to the side considering, “Time is… funny," It paused for a moment before finally settling on, "You have until sunrise before The Promise Day,”

Ed growled and threw his hands up, “And how am I supposed to know when that is? These last few times I’ve drifted back it’s been… flashes and hazy visions- I have no idea what time it is there!”

“As your being weakens, so does your connection to the worlds you exist in. But,” Truth said, “Perhaps some incentive is necessary,”

And the void faded away.

Mustang looked old. That was the only thing Ed could think as he laid his gaze on his commanding officer. His eyes were bordered by heavy bags, deep purple things that made it look as if he hadn’t seen sleep in ages and had been on the losing end of a recent brawl.

There was a Private in his office, young, maybe eighteen. His uniform ill-fitting, he had not yet grown into his height. He was twitching slightly, but still obviously fighting the impulse to do so as he fought to appear as unobtrusive as possible while he waited for Mustang to finish signing a veritable mountain of paperwork sat in the center of his desk.

The Colonel stopped with a low sigh, letting his pen drop from his fingers. “Carters isn’t it?”

“Uh, yes, yes, sir,” the Private said stumbling forward to retrieve the documents.

“You like the military Carters?”

The Private froze as if wondering if this was a trick question. “I’m very thankful for the opportunities that the military-”

“Not what I meant,” Mustang said with a tired wave of his hand, “I mean, is this what you wanted to do with your life? What you sent out to accomplish?”

“Oh, well,” Carters stutters sheepishly, “Actually, I wanted to be a History teacher,”

“A history teacher?” Carters nodded, clutching the papers tight to his chest.

“I’ve always loved history. I’m good at remembering things, faces, people, events- math and science… uh, I can’t- well, not as well- not like you! Not like an Alchemist!” He stumbled.

“Did you want to be an Alchemist?” Ed marveled at how soft Mustang’s tone was as he spoke to the young soldier like he truly cared for the answer. "It was a tone he could rarely remember being directed at anyone before.

“Oh no,” Carters blushed red, “but my- my little brother, he’s” he paused, “He’s incredible. I can’t make heads or tails of most of it, but he… he just gets it. It was actually,” Carters gave an awkward laugh, and reached up to scratch behind his ear, “It was actually, uh, The Fullmetal- Edward Elric- that got him on to it all. We saw him when he first came to Central, my old man wouldn’t stop going on about all the property damage, but my little brother… he took one look at it all and decided he needed how to do that too.”

“He certainly did cause a lot of property damage,” Mustang mused, his smile laced with an undertone of bitterness.

“Is it- uh, I mean-”

“Is what Private?”

“It’s nothing,” he quickly said with a shake of his head,

“Go on,”

Carters hesitated for a second, “Is it true? What they’re saying? That Fullmetal is…” Mustang tensed in his seat, “That he’s gone rogue?”

Mustang let out a strange shuddering breath as if he’d expected a very different end to that question, “that is what they say,” 

The Private ducked his gaze, looking embarrassed, “of course sir. If I could be..?”

“Of course,” Mustang replied, dismissing him with a wave.

Soon as the door to his office clicked shut Ed’s commanding officer's frame seem to sag. Ed took a cautious step forward, fighting the urge to reach out. There was a burning in his chest, a longing, to return, to go home. It all would have been easier if he’d never learned to care for those people through The Gate, if his priorities had never become so confused.

Mustang reached up, a hand carding through his hair, grown out now to be just a bit longer than regulation. “Where are you Edward?” he said quietly into the open air.

His eyes watered, and Ed felt his throat tighten, “I’m right here,” 

But Ed’s words were useless, and Ed himself was helpless to the pull of The Gate dragging him back into the void.

When he opened his eyes he was greeted by the sight of the top of his four-poster. Heavy green curtains swayed slightly, betraying the presence of another. Turning his head to the side, Ed’s gaze caught on the figure of Malfoy standing ghost-like beside him, looking down blankly.

“Draco…” Ed murmured blinking as he moved to push himself upright, “What…?”

Malfoy brought a finger to his lips and extended his hand toward Ed, helping him climb to his feet, hindered as he was by the presence of only one working arm. Ed went to slide his feet into his boots only to be stopped. Too loud, Draco mouthed motioning him forward. Silently Ed followed after his friends, socked feet padding lightly across the ground. The dorm room door was already cracked open and neither of them stopped to latch it properly as they exited.

Ed went to ask again what was happening, but he was again silenced as Draco sent a significant look at the portraits that dotted the walls around them. Just wait. So Ed did, following close behind Draco as they exited the common room and crept through Hogwarts's ancient halls. They carried on in silence until Ed found himself looking at a familiar path of the corridor.

“Draco-?”

“I- I need to show you something,”

And without another word he began to pace in front of The Room of Requirement, a look of tight concentration painted across his face. Ed’s eyes darted around the hall warily, taking in their surroundings, keeping watch for any sign of another waking soul.

“Don’t worry,” Draco murdered, “Filch and his cat won’t be coming through anytime soon,” 

Ed turned to look at him, maybe to ask how he knew that, but as he did, he saw a great door melting out of the stone. It was different than the one that Garrow had plotted to trap him behind but no less imposing. In a weak attempt to break the tension, Ed couldn’t help but ask, “Are you plotting to kill me in there too?”

Expecting Draco to take it as the joke it was, was clearly too much to ask. Instead, his face grew even more ashen in the faint torchlight. With a small shake of his head, he pushed inward and signaled for Ed to follow him into the darkness inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how inconsistent updates have been the last few weeks, school is wrapping up here shortly and once that happens I'll figure out how everything works with my new work schedule. Once this fic finishes up there'll be break leading up to the Final part of this series so I can finish blocking the story out and take a short rest from these two fandoms so I don't burn myself out. Thanks for sticking around!
> 
> See you in the next one!

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go folks! I'd expect steady updates from here out (I'll let you know If they'll be a missed week), but it's possible they won't be on Monday I just need to see how this and my work schedule cooperate!
> 
> As always, comment's and kudos are a girl's best friend! (And if I missed stuff when editing feel free to point it out) 
> 
> \- Pree


End file.
